You say potato, I say patata!
by licensetowrite
Summary: He's the head of a media empire. She's brash, straight forward, and an Italian Catholic with a temper. Apart, they cause a stir. Together, they ignite. A modern P&P tale. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a fan fic about Pride and Prejudice as I am a huge fan of Jane Austen's work, particularly the inner working relationship between Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. This piece is a modern P&P piece that is taken out of context only so that it may be adapted to the modern times. Due to that fact, there is some cursing in it and etc. I hope, though, that many enjoy the take I took on the P&P story. There is a slight manipulation with the characters, with only one real notable change from the novel. Jane, in this story, is later Elizabeth's best friend rather than her sister. The first chapter focuses on how they met. I only have a few chapters written so far but working on it. I will also note that I write Elizabeth Bennet in the first person point of view and when I switch to Darcy, I write in third. I suppose I do this because I like the mysterious air that Austen lends to his character. Elizabeth is like an open book, but he is mysterious. By switching point of views, I feel it keeps him somewhat more mysterious. One can tell immediately that I am also a huge fan of satire and humor. Please be kind and please let me know what you think. I look forward to reading anything that anyone might have to say. All opinions count. I have so enjoyed writing this and definitely want feedback. And I thank all of you ahead of time who do read. Well wishes to you all.—licensetowrite**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Savages!" A woman hollered—the scream tearing vehemently throughout the area as if it were an arrow aiming for a target, and I almost ducked with the sharpness of the tone—peering curiously over the edge of my cubicle along with the twenty something other people that worked in this particular space. That's the thing with close quarters—no privacy. Better yet, no anything.

"Damn lot of freakin' savages! All of you!" The bellowing continued as the person in question stormed suddenly out of the main office towards the door at the entrance. I should sit down. Really I should. Give the woman her privacy as she marched, head held up high, towards the continuous monotony of the business driven world down below in the streets. It makes being self-sufficient even more…well…excruciating. It's like opening up a jug of milk in your refrigerator, realizing it tastes as bad as it smells before glancing at the expiration date, and then dumping the entire contents down your kitchen sink while murmuring what a waste it was letting it curdle. And it _was_ a waste—losing yet another employee in a period of two months. I let my gaze follow her as she sashayed across the floor—her stance capturing my attention even as I tried to ignore it. She had an air about her that demanded attention. I should really really learn to mind my own business.

She stopped suddenly—walking over to the space that had probably once been her tiny, insignificant locale, _her_ little area of the world before she had turned away from it so callously, as if she had no reason to care. How I envied that carefree sense of abandonment! _I_ couldn't do it—couldn't keep walking away as if my job were nothing more than an irritating pebble in my shoe that could quickly be shaken out and replaced with comfort. No, I had this little thing called 'bills,' a family that depended on my paycheck, and a landlord who had a tendency to phone if you were even five minutes late on the rent. And trust me; I shudder when I say that he even liked to present himself for personal visits. I'd pay a friggin' fortune to avoid those inopportune moments wasted watching him pick his teeth and perusing my belongings. Again, I shudder. I'm utterly convinced that the pot-bellied man either had every phone and place within the complex where I lived bugged or an on-going relationship with a really good psychic. To me, tea leaves looked the same no matter how many times you looked at the wet mess. Point being, they looked like tea leaves. And if Tarot cards could be believed, then I'd have already committed suicide.

"Here!" the woman proclaimed as she lifted something off of her desk and threw it onto mine unceremoniously. I grabbed for it before it landed—looking up into the fiery, brown eyes of an angry young female as she leaned over my head menacingly. It was then that I realized, pathetically, that despite the fact that we had worked beside each other for almost a year, I had no idea what her name was. Therefore, I just glanced around warily before smiling tightly at the object now resting in my hand. It was a tree…I think.

"Should I smoke it?" I asked carefully as I twisted it around in my hands. I mean, seriously, it sure as hell didn't look like a normal plant to me. Something this ugly had to have some kind of medicinal purpose. Right? The lady just laughed—bitterly.

"It's a bonsai. I call it 'Ono' and all you have to do is water it sporadically. Nothing to the damn thing really." She muttered before throwing a narrowed look over her shoulder at the robust man that came suddenly out of his bureaucratic headquarters —slowly and with deliberation only to lean casually against his open office door with arms crossed authoritatively across his chest. He need only pound his torso a few times and say 'Me Tarzan, you Jane' and the rest of us would feel right at home. No, wait! Godzilla was a much better description.

"Uh huh…" I murmured uncomfortably towards the woman as I eyed the browning limbs of the plant skeptically. So, she had conversations with vegetation? I backed away from her slightly as I kept eyeing the…whatever it was. And come to think of it, I guess the thing really did sort of resemble a bonsai…sort of. The Big Man, otherwise known as the guy who signed my paychecks, started tapping his foot impatiently as I set the plant down gingerly. I couldn't help it. The question just slipped.

"Ono as in 'oh no'?" I asked curiously as the woman shrugged. She looked bored as she perused a small chip on one of her fingernails before glancing briefly down at me and then at the man at the back of the office. She was really enjoying irritating her former boss. She shrugged again.

"Actually, if we're being technical, it's Ono number five. Its siblings died very quick, painful deaths. Who the hell knew a bonsai would be that difficult to keep alive?" She answered honestly before throwing the Big Man a very elaborate and distinctive view of her middle finger. That should have bothered me, but I was too busy contemplating how the hell you killed a bonsai. And not just one, since this particular foliage was obviously not on a road to recovery, but four before it? We're not talking green thumbs here. We're talking the hands of death. I actually even laughed a little.

"Maybe you should try a cactus." I supplied helpfully as the Big Man stepped away from his door before moving pointedly in our general direction. Oh shit! I slid down in my seat as the 'unnamed one' placed a relaxed elbow on the ledge of my office space before smiling whimsically. Now was not a good time for her to pretend we knew each other. Come on!

"You have to the count of three Miss Houston to grab the rest of your things and get the hell out of this building!" Mr. Big Man roared as I squinted my eyes up at him with uncertainty in reply to his sudden critical perusal of my person. A year of being completely overlooked and I was suddenly inheriting both inquisitive stares and a dying tree. Yeah, I had no desire to have anyone read my palm right now. Hell, a crystal ball would probably turn black in my presence. I needed to disappear—fall through the floor with or without ceremony. Where was David Copperfield when you needed him, huh? Hell, freakin' Houdini would work if he wasn't dead. The woman smiled. Office rule number one: smiles were never good in these particular situations.

"I was just telling my good friend here to watch her ass and to feed my plant, you son of a bi…" Miss Houston reiterated while I let the rest of the sentence sort of fade into the background as I stared at her incredulously. Excuse me? Her what? Uh uh, no way! I had enough monetary dependency on commercialism to fight that statement with broad insistence—almost like one of those pastors on television who claimed they could heal with the simple touch of their hands against your forehead. There's no telling how many nights I have actually spent in my youth along with my sisters listening to our mother shout 'amen' at the evangelists while I looked on with wide eyes and fervent expectation. Right now, a good 'Praise be, you are healed!' would be so much better than the infinite awkwardness I now found myself embroiled in. The Big Man looked at me.

"You know her, Miss Bennet?" He asked insistently as I smiled sheepishly before opening my mouth to argue. There may be pot holes in the road of life, but I had this little finicky habit of steering myself around large disturbances in the force. _This _called for steerage.

"I…" I began as Miss '_I'm determined to screw with your perfectly sane life_' Houston leaned over to begin fiddling with objects on my desk as if she had known they had always been there—as if she had a right to pretend my rubic's cube was something she had spent months trying to decipher. And with a few quick twists of the object…she completely ruined three months of 'my' hard work. Can anyone say 'shrink?'

"Oh, Miss…Bennet and I here have known each other for years, haven't we sweetheart?" The woman interrupted as I just threw her a bewildered stare that could turn ice into a friggin' inferno. Arg…I was beginning to have an Apollo 13 moment as I gazed at her in derision. Ummmm…Houston, we have a problem here!

"Really?" The Big Man asked as I shook my head frantically—choking on a sudden breath as the 'maniacal one' patted me sympathetically on the back. Was she crazy? Okay, so we've pretty much established that was the case, right?

"She's shy in public." Miss Houston remarked with a small shrug as I placed both of my palms firmly against the top of my desk in an attempt to keep my temper in check. Why, the little…!"

"Then maybe she can help you find the closest exit without anymore stops along the way. We don't allow sightseeing during business hours." The Big Man stated sourly as I stood up quickly—knocking my desk chair over in the process due to my new frenzied state. I was not in the mood to argue. Nope…now was the perfect time to practice immediate obedience and if that meant dragging Miss Houston out by the skin of her ear, then I was certainly more than willing. She just cocked her head to the side arrogantly as I marched around my desk hurriedly—grabbing her firmly by the meat of her upper arms before dragging her toward the door. She didn't fight me—marching instead so sullenly that the mood seemed suddenly to shift as quickly as the southern weather outside had a tendency to do. I could even hear the faint murmurings of 'dead woman walking' as I marched next to her, my short diminutive frame dwarfed by her taller, intimidating one. I shivered at her blank stare as we approached the elevators at the end of the hall. I fully intended to see her out of the building as quickly as possible. We moved into the space simultaneously. I was just about to punch the key labeled floor '1' as she leaned over and punched 'roof' instead. What the hell! Office rule number two: roofs never bode well following the termination of employment.

"Do you have psychological issues? Because if we're talking repressed memories or manic depression, I promise you there is an entire list of professional help in the yellow pages. I'll even tear them out for you." I offered as the heavy doors in front of us dinged open to reveal the windy air that characterized the roof tops above. It made for a perfect place to grab a cigarette or even just a little fresh air. It did not suit those no longer with a job. Houston didn't even glance at me as she breezed out of the enclosure before moving toward the ledge overlooking the city. An unsettling sensation began to swim around in the pit of my stomach. She wouldn't! Maybe asking her if she had psychological issues hadn't been such a swell idea.

"Better yet, I'm a great listener. Feel free to unload. I even guarantee a free-of-charge session." I stated frantically as she pulled off her high heels deliberately, one at a time, before climbing up onto the railing. Oh hell! Oh no! I began to edge around the roof carefully—approaching her slowly as I closed my eyes to keep from peering down. This was not the day for this! Was she planning to jump? Couldn't she have gone into the bathroom and drowned herself in the toilet instead. I did not like heights!

"Let's talk about this. It can't be all that bad, right?" I persuaded as I got near enough to her to notice she was leaning forward experimentally. What was this—change from 'I seem perfectly fine with my decision' to 'doesn't jumping off the roof of a high rise building sound good to me' day? A piece of gravel came loose and clattered down the side of the structure. Oh Jesus! Where the hell was my aunt Clarece and her rosary when I needed it? Now would be a great time to do all those Hail Mary's I kept promising I would do for my cursing problem. Even if, generally, I only tended to curse inside my head. The Lord still heard you, right? Miss Houston started crying…sobbing really…until she was practically hiccupping—losing her balance slightly as she screamed out into the air around us. I could see people looking up from the ground below us now—pointing their fingers upward as they reached for their cell phones. Oh dear God! Some of them actually began taking pictures. Remind me again whose idea it was to put cameras inside of cell phones. It's not like we didn't have enough problems with text messaging.

"I'm just so…so stupid." The woman cried out as I clenched my teeth together in an attempt to keep them from chattering. Stupid was a good description really. But telling her that…not so good.

"Okay, I think we all feel that way sometimes. No need to hang off the side of a building because of it." I replied with a small yelp as she let one of her hands go so that she was only holding on now with her right palm. Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Breathe dammit! Fainting now would not help matters! Police sirens in the distance made me want to sit down on the cement underneath the woman before grabbing my head between my hands and moaning in agony. And this was why my profession had nothing to do with law enforcement. Nope, I enjoyed mediocre anonymity. What the hell was I supposed to do?

"Think happy thoughts." I uttered helplessly without contemplation as the woman looked over at me in surprise—grabbing hold of the railing now with both hands as she caught wind of my comment.

"What?" She asked with feigned flippancy as I shrugged.

"It worked for that Peter Pan guy. He got the entire Darling family up in the air with thoughts of ice cream and cookies. Just come down, would you?" I begged as she turned away from me again, shaking her head at my philosophy before letting go with her right hand this time. It caused her to lean more precariously toward the ground, and I could hear as gasps from down below encompassed us with 'don't jump's' and 'get it over with already's.' I grabbed the railing so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"I can hug you. Yeah, that's it. Do you need a hug? A drink maybe?" I murmured as she laughed suddenly. Laughed? There were cops now below with bullhorns, people screaming, and an entire city slowing down its day to view this…umm…moment. Yet, despite this, she had the gall to laugh? I could only hope that someone among them had a degree in temporary insanity. She was still laughing as she shrugged before stepping back over the railing—moving along it a moment before suddenly dropping back down onto the safety of the roof.

"And here I thought you were rigid and dull." She remarked as I looked at her calm expression in shock. Excuse me? Was this a joke? I stared at her with a gaping mouth and wide, astonished eyes as she continued to saunter away, picking up the box she had let fall to the ground upon entering the roof earlier. And then she smiled. Yeah, smiled. How about that? To quote Cary Grant, 'Insanity couldn't possibly run in her family, it had to freakin' gallop!"

"What was that?" I asked her angrily—waving my hands in the air as she shrugged.

"That was performance at its best." She explained nonchalantly as I narrowed my eyes at her retreating back. Performace? This was a performance? Talk about improvisation!

"Remind me not to ask you what you do in your spare time." I remarked haughtily. Dammit! I was angry. Plain and simple. Performance or not, she had played havoc with my emotions.

"I don't guess you'd do me the honor of climbing back up onto that ledge so that I could push you over?" I asked sardonically as she stopped a moment as if actually considering the request while the door in front of us burst open to reveal two uniformed police officers. They looked so serious that I almost hated to burst their nice, adrenaline pumped bubble. As a matter of fact, I didn't have to.

"False alarm, fellows." Miss Houston replied cheerfully while I shrugged at the cops before following meekly behind her toward the stairs. Like Daisy in Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, some women just fed off dramatic attention. This was ridiculous! Houston stopped and turned toward me as the elevators opened upon following our descension to the bottom floor only to reveal my very irate boss screaming at the police gathered there. Something about doing their jobs and all that jazz.

"It has been a pleasure getting to know you, Miss Bennet. I go by the surname Janice…Jane really…whatever…the pleasure is entirely mine, I'm sure." She stated in a bright, friendly tone as our…excuse me…_my_ boss descended on us furiously. Oh! How good could this be? I was even beginning to envy the roof. Jumping off didn't seem like a bad idea after all. Jane looked over at me cheekily before pulling something out of her purse and writing on it furiously. I was not in the mood for 'let's pass a note in the class' moment but here it was anyway. She shrugged.

"I heard you had a degree in teaching and journalism—that you come with high recommendations. And yet you put up with this?" She asked dramatically as she waved her arms in the air encompassing the area. She shrugged as I looked over at her in surprise. And she knew about me how?

"I worked in records although design is my specialty. That means I had access to everyone's lives at the tips of my fingers and I know a compatible soul when I see one. I teach drama myself. Or taught, if you want to be more accurate. We should hang out again sometime, Lizzie." She stated almost on a whisper surprising me with the use of my own surname as I stared up at her incredulously before glancing down at the sheet of paper. I should have known she taught drama. She also had a slight accent, although I couldn't place it.

"Think about it." Jane whispered just as the "Big Man" approached with a face so red I suddenly felt the need to run back into the building and pull the fire alarm.

"Damnation! I should fire you both." He yelled as I felt my blood run like ice through the series of veins in my body. Now I knew why the human vein was blue. I looked down at the paper as I felt my heart sink. I both glared and shrugged at the woman next to me.

"You are, as of today, the devil on my shoulder, Jane." I mumbled as I looked over my own shoulder at the building behind us. An editor there for a year—a year of my life down the drain and yet it supported my family—my father who couldn't work anymore because of his heart, my mother who wouldn't work if she could help it, and my three younger sisters who were still high school age with two of them having become a decidedly aggravating hand full since puberty. Maybe it was time for a change. Ugghhh, my mother didn't like change. It was evident my ears would soon be ringing if I did happen to lose my job. Jane just smiled. Sometimes I hated those who could see the humor in every situation. My boss just smiled suddenly along with Jane.

"I've changed my mind." He muttered as Jane and I both grew deathly still. "If you like drama that much then I will give you drama. And I've got just the assignment. If you think I'm bad just wait until you meet our European Correspondence, the man who runs the entire empire. You get to work for him. I'm sending you both to England." Mr. Big Man stated suddenly with such finesse that I cringed. The man overseas must be something else if he felt he was feeding us to the sharks. Jane, no longer a former employee, just smiled wider. Something told me that she wasn't easily fazed. Well, neither was I, and this could be just the move up that I was waiting for. I was damn good at my job.

"Off to the gallows!" Jane remarked in a bad rendition of an English accent with her arm outstretched in a mock sword fighting position. Or maybe her rendition of an accent was a really bad version of a 'real' accent. Should I be worried? I cringed.

"You first, Benedict Arnold." I complained as she laughed. Yes, laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Two weeks later…**_

"You're going where!" Mama yelled as I closed my eyes against her high railed screech while massaging the bulging muscles that were now leaping at my temples. Five minutes in her presence and I already had a headache. Ah, mama! I could hear her even now moving across the room in agitation as she rustled through the apartment's cabinets looking, no doubt, for the prescription of anti-depressants she kept insisting she needed. It was also the reason she spent more time sleeping than she did awake. And that particular reason was why papa kept encouraging her to take them. I could hear Jane snickering slightly from the side of the room and I resorted to taking deep meditative breaths to keep from opening my eyes and glaring over at her. Instead, I looked over at mama carefully. I had spent the last two weeks pretending to go to my old job while meeting with Jane and a few other associates instead in preparation for a translating job overseas. Yes, translating. Whatever works, right? Imperial publishing was an international company and the '_Boss'_ was planning to set up a branch in Italy. The translating job had finally panned out but not without a fight. According to my overseas boss, I was too young for the position, not experienced enough. But my recommendations were high, and the man was obviously desperate enough for someone who could speak Italian to allow me to take on the job. Allow me my ass! I could still hear his voice burning against my eardrums as mama moaned and groaned.

"Nobody teaches or speaks English better than the English. What makes you think that you can do better? Better yet, how can I be sure that your Italian isn't tainted by American slang?" He had asked over the phone as I spoke with him for the first time. It had taken my 'previous' boss thirty calls before finally being able to talk to the man about Jane and I, and I think the only reason he took it then was because we were badgering his secretary. Hey, whatever it took right? Harassment sometimes went a long way towards success. My conversation with the invisible Mr. Darcy and now mama's continuing moans finally did it. I snapped.

"You have a choice, mama. Go back to work and support this family yourself or deal with the fact that this is the only option at the moment and that the pay is spectacular. And you all will be going with me. It's a good thing this family has so much Italian blood on your side, mama. I'll be translating for Italian business men and women, help them understand the ropes in editing and journalism. It's a high position, and it pays well. Well enough that we can pull Mary, Kitty, and Lydia out of this horrible public school system here in the friggin' ghetto and place them in a nice public school in Great Britain. Somewhere in a middle class school. And we'll be staying at an estate provided by the company in the countryside. Mama, I'll be working with rich men and women—with people who could take us to incredible levels of success in this industry. Being bilingual really helps. Per favore (please), mama! " I reiterated as Mrs. Bennet stopped suddenly while still trying to pop the top off of her pills. I was beginning to think she was a better candidate for Ritulin than anti-depressants because when she wasn't sleeping, she was downright high-strung.

"Rich you say?" Mama asked as I deliberately rolled my eyes. Of course, she wouldn't get past the rolling 'r' word. It made her ears perk up like the tail of an animal in heat. I heard Jane laugh outright. I still hadn't decided how I felt about her yet, but strangely enough, we got along well—better than my own sisters and I most of the time. Great thing since we'd be working together.

"Very rich." Jane murmured helpfully as I looked over at my younger sisters who were, even now, wiggling in anticipation. Lydia and Kitty were giggling as they looked over at me with wide, similar eyes. The mischievous little twin devils.

"English boys! There will be English boys there!" They almost screeched as papa lowered his paper only long enough to look over at me with twinkling eyes as I sighed. What did they think would be in England? Puppets? Mary just took her glasses off for the third time in the same half hour and cleaned them again as if the glass couldn't get clear enough. I kept trying to get her to wear contacts, but she constantly continued to refuse.

"Ahh, England! The home of William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Chaucer….oh and so many more brilliant writers, musicians, and artists." Mary whispered with haughty adoration as I sighed before looking over at her. She aspired to become entrenched in the world of fine arts, but she lacked dreadfully in understanding it.

"It is also the kingdom of Henry the Eighth, the bloody tower, and Jack the Ripper. Don't romanticize it, Mary. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed." I stated slowly as Jane grinned.

"Don't forget the gorgeous Prince William, Liz. He lives there too." Jane supplied as all of the girls squealed. I grunted as I clenched my teeth together before glaring over at Jane pointedly. At least mama had quieted down. That was a good sign, right?

"When do we leave?" Mama finally asked as she finally got the top off of her pills. Kudos for child proof tops. It gave her time to assimilate the situation before falling asleep again. I smiled widely. I couldn't help it. Maybe things were beginning to change for us. I loved my family. Really I did.

"I've already contacted the landlord and put in the notice a few days ago. I've also paid the last month's rents and utilities a month ahead of time. We leave in two days. It's fairly soon, but the position needs immediate fulfillment." I explained quickly as mama gasped at the rush. I just sighed in relief as Jane stood up and pulled me toward the door. It was time to let them all process the news while I got quickly out of the line of fire.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_**England**_

_That same day at the village of Meryton on Hertfordshire where a branch of Imperial Publishing is located…_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy's Point of View…._

"Mr. Darcy?" A low uncertain voice asked quietly from the doorway as Will growled. He couldn't help it. This fiscal year had started out with less than an efficient beginning and he was worn and irritated. Coming near his office was like entering a cave housed by a fire-breathing dragon. Charles Bingley cocked an amused brow as Darcy narrowed his eyes at the door.

"What is it, Miss Lucas?" He asked in a strained tone as his secretary, Charlotte, made her way cautiously into the room before laying a folder gingerly on his desk.

"The file you asked for." She almost whispered before scurrying quickly back into the safety of the room beyond. Darcy didn't blame her. He looked down at the thin folder with disgust. Desperate times called for desperate measures he supposed.

"You could try for a little subtle charm, Darcy." Charles stated mildly as he casually reclined against the sofa placed against the side wall of the room. Darcy just 'hrrrpphhmmmed.'

"With an emphasis on the word _subtle_, Charles." Will muttered as Charles laughed. He was used to Darcy's crass behavior—had learned to deal with it since their introduction at Eton years ago as boys. Darcy's father had been the headmaster at the school then, a hard position for a young athletic boy to deal with. Not to mention that Darcy's grandfather was also the founder of a huge company that controlled a lot of England's journalism and design empires. Having become disgusted with the politics of the news world, he had used his prominent wealth to build his own empire despite his lack of educational knowledge. The business had succeeded though, even matched the famous papers and publishing companies that Great Britain was famous for. It even had a strong foothold at the BBC. And Fitzwilliam 'Will' Darcy had made his own changes upon inheriting the position after serving in the Royal Air Force. He had made the company international, allowing the company to expand across Europe and America. So far, it had exceeded Darcy's expectations. And now he was at a shortage for translators and editors.

"Still worried about the new translator?" Charles asked as Darcy began flipping through the folder on his desk. It wasn't that he was worried. He was just not happy about the choice he had made.

"She's not right for this leg of the company." Darcy insisted as he shook his head at the information in front of him. She was too damn young, probably too naïve, and definitely more than a little below the level of society usually hired by this particular branch. Their employees here mingled with high society on a daily basis. Charles shook his head.

"And Jane Houston is?" Charles asked as he stood up and began spinning a globe standing next to a tall spruced plant in the corner. The action irritated Darcy even more, but he didn't comment on it.

"Jane was a drama teacher with a specialty in design. I'm not looking for much more than an art degree for the position she's moving into. And Jane has family in these provinces that are prominent members of this society. How do you think she got that job at our company in the first place? Her mother may be American, but her father is worth millions. Do you even know how many times she has been fired and re-fired by Imperial. She may be flighty but she's good and knows the intricacies of high society when called upon to know it. But this other woman…" Darcy began as Charles shrugged.

"Isn't up to par, mate? Is that what you're saying? She doesn't have a bloody family crest is that it? Sometimes you are one hell of a selfish man, Will." Charles stated simply as he spinned the globe one last time before turning toward Will. Will sighed. It wasn't that she was American or that her heritage wasn't top notch….or maybe it was partly that. She _was_ bilingual. Her voice rang through his head as he remembered their last phone conversation.

"If there's one thing I know, Mr. Darcy, it's English and Italian. I even speak Spanish. I won't let a narrowed view of my culture or my limited background color what I am capable of." She had stated with conviction as Darcy groaned at her independent streak. It didn't bode well that she already found a need to question his statements. He hadn't been intentionally rude to her.

"She's only twenty-three, Charles. She's been out of college only a year. She's too fresh. The possibility remains that she won't be able to handle our clientele which is why she's only temporary." Darcy replied as Charles' eyes widened in disbelief.

"Darcy, tell me you didn't." Charles exclaimed as Darcy shrugged. He had. Simple as that. He _had_. Charles sighed as Darcy rounded his desk and grabbed his coat. He had to tend to the business he owned to the best of his ability and that meant making difficult decisions. Miss Bennet was not his only priority. At the doorway, Charlotte Lucas listened silently before shaking her head gently and making her way quickly back to her desk before she was caught eavesdropping. What a hard-hearted man that Fitzwilliam Darcy was. The woman was bringing her family for God's sake. The bloody demon, he was. Charlotte was betting on the hope that Ms. Elizabeth Bennet would prove him wrong. It was time someone did.


	3. Chapter 3

_**On a plane two days later…**_

_**Elizabeth Bennet's POV…**_

"I don't like heights." Mrs. Bennet complained as the plane made its way slowly toward London's Heathrow Airport. I just sighed before lowering myself resignedly down into my seat. Here we go.

"Neither do I, mama. You didn't have to take the window seat." I remarked almost sarcastically as she threw me a look that said "_and who thinks I'm not good enough for the window seat_." Sometimes the woman was plain impossible.

"Just tell her to take a pill and she'll leave off on the complaints." Papa whispered, and I choked on a small laugh as I looked over my sisters' heads at Jane who was watching the scene with almost adamant fascination. I was beginning to think she thought my family would make for a really good stage production. Lord, I hoped not. Mama began rattling the seat.

"There's no room on these damn planes. No room, I tell you. We should file a complaint with the…whatever department is over air travel. Yes, that's a wonderful idea." She proclaimed as she rammed her elbow into the stiff fabric as I groaned.

"It's coach, mama. Not first class." I said softly while looking around to see if anyone else had noticed her tirade. She could be quite an embarrassment at times. She just laughed at my snide statement.

"Well, middle class folk are just as important as those who have a pocket full of cash. It's the laborers that make the world turn on its axis. Without our labor, nothing could progress." She stated loudly enough that I closed my eyes to keep from hissing. Oh, mama!

"It's not like _you _contribute much to the labor at large." I whispered as Jane snickered from a few seats away. If only _I_ could laugh at the situation. Really, it was downright irritating.

"I almost sighed in relief when the 'fasten your seatbelt' light dinged on and the pilot came over the speaker with an announcement dealing with our approach towards London. Oh, Thank God! This plane trip had been long and despairing. I was just glad most of my family had slept during the main duration of it. Especially since I was beginning to worry now about my decision to leave the U.S.—beginning to worry that I couldn't fill this position. No, dammit! I was stronger willed than that and the man who had hired me had already raised my ire enough by insulting my intelligence. I had a lot to prove, and I intended to do just that.

"I know that look." Jane whispered as we all started to depart the plane in single-filed fashion. I just raised a brow at her. She grinned.

"It's called stubborn determination and it looks good on you." She commented as I ran smack dab into the back of my mother as she stopped to give her complaints to the flight attendant at the open door of the plane. Had I been in a worse mood, I would have shoved her out of the door onto the ground below, but as it was, I just cursed under my breath and shrugged apologetically at the flight attendant as I was finally able to move forward. There was a reason that Lydia and Kitty had a problem with proper etiquette. Maybe this move would do us all good in the fashionable department. I looked around the huge airport as we all entered into its monstrous interior and I sighed. What was I doing? How had a brief meeting with a girl I still barely knew, but had learned to accept as a rash decision maker who had the ability to persuade people to join her inner circle, turned into this…whatever this was? Too late to turn back now.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_**A Few Hours Later…**_

I wasn't prepared for what happened next. Wasn't prepared for the things that society expected of the elite. I mean for heaven's sake, I wasn't a part of the elite. I was an American Catholic with a pension for losing my temper at the worst possible moments and a mouth that…well, it tended to become my downfall during those same moments. But, I did at least consider myself an educated idiot. But, this was not one of those things that I considered myself educated about.

"What do you mean that there's a ball." I almost roared as Jane winced. Longbourn, the company estate, had been enough to take in as the company car dropped us off at its enormous entrance, but aside from the estate, I couldn't remember Jane telling me about a friggin' ball. Then again, I think she had just discovered it too as she talked with a man standing just inside the door.

"It's just a small affair I think. Something the company has put together here at the Longbourn estate for its employees. From what I understand, it's an annual event." She commented as I took in deep, slow breaths that came far from relaxing me, wishing fervently instead for a brown paper sack. If hyperventilation were ever close to a possibility, it would be now.

"You've met my family." I hissed as Kitty's ears perked up like a highly sensitive climatic radar detecting slight nuances in the change of weather. Or maybe it was just the fact that the word 'event' had slipped rather decorously out of Jane's conniving lips.

"There's to be a party!" Kitty almost screamed as I groaned. I mean really groaned. And tonight of all nights. We hadn't even had a chance to relax, a chance to allow me the opportunity to talk to my family about the differences in American and English society. Hell, I just wanted the chance to teach them basic etiquette before they slipped into the mold of British society. And here, I was going to watch the snakes being thrown into the fray instead of the other way around. And my mother had one hell of a nasty bite. Point being, fate had lousy timing. Jane just patted me on the back.

"My family, at least, is very open to different human personalities. Trust me, I even consider them Looney. Look at me. I'm bloody messed up." Jane reflected as I shook my head.

"Yes, but isn't the point of dementia to hide it away in some institution somewhere instead of broadcasting it to potential criticism." I pointed out as Jane feigned an aghast expression.

"Are you insulting me, Lizzie?" She asked in mock surprise as I looked over at her blandly.

"Yes," I stated simply as I watched what, I assumed, was the owners of the establishment descending the stairs now behind her. They consisted of an almost elderly couple and another young woman, all with smiles so big that they almost forced themselves off of their pointed faces. Too happy. These people must be on drugs. Look who's speaking, right? Jane yelped before running toward them with her arms out-stretched. Obviously, she knew them. I felt totally out of my league here. Jane may be the black sheep of the upper crust, but I had learned from her over the past couple of weeks that birth kept her from being completely ostracized. Her mother was American, but her father was a British business man with money up the Wa-zoo, and a family tree with roots in the Garden of Eden. Which meant, she knew people. I didn't have the luxury of lineage.

"I was just telling the Bennets that there is quite the night planned for the employees here." Jane explained cheerfully as I found myself wishing quite emphatically for a gun. One bullet to the side of the head. That's all it would take. The other people now present grinned just as cheerfully as Jane. Okay, maybe two bullets.

"That's right!" The woman proclaimed as she rushed the rest of the way downstairs before hugging us all a little too snuggly while kissing each of us on the cheeks and even pinching the twins' faces. They tended to illicit that behavior from strangers mainly because they were twins. What's more fascinating than looking at two people that resembled clones? But, then again, they hadn't been raised with them. I, on the other hand, had. The woman suddenly looked over at me once she had finished her rounds and I discreetly clenched my fists together as she cocked her head to the side pleasantly.

"And you must be Elizabeth Bennet. The new Italian Translator. Ahhh, so young. Isn't she Frederick?" She asked the man beside her although his disinterested nod before glancing at a pocket watch hanging from his pants reminded me instantly of my own parents' relationship. Who would have thought that they would have a match across the ocean? How did I manage to find myself ensconced in a place this demented? I could see Jane's amused stare and I raised a brow at her. I couldn't even dance. As far as I knew, neither could my family. I just hoped that the man who had hired me wouldn't be present. It could mean my job. Literally. Lady 'unnamed' smiled again as she waved her hands toward the stairs.

"The housekeeper will show you to your rooms and I will have the clothes that I had ordered for you to wear tonight sent up immediately. The cost is covered by the company as the clothes are donated to charity on the morrow." She remarked as Jane shrugged and grinned before beginning to bound up the stairs. Everyone else followed giddily after as I stared remorsefully at the floor. Clothes?


	4. Chapter 4

**Later that Night: The Annual Employee's Ball at Longbourn**

_**Darcy's Point of View…**_

The lights glared around the ballroom highlighting the spectacular effects that the multi-colored dresses made against the backdrop of hardwood floors and chandeliers. It really was a beautiful affair, but full of raucous laughter and giddy people who had consumed a little too much Champagne. Darcy hated these types of events. Always had. And the disintegration of the etiquette he normally required of his employees was evident. Maybe it was time he thought about downsizing. Caroline Bingley appeared from the side of the room and Darcy took in a deep breath. He didn't know if he was glad to see her or a little morose over the fact that her conversations tended to be as dull as sitting inside one of his own board meetings. Caroline grinned.

"Such a tawdry affair, don't you think, Darcy?" She asked almost arrogantly as Darcy shrugged. He couldn't disagree with her. He had already witnessed two young twin girls maybe around the age of fifteen sneaking a few cups of champagne while their mother laughed at their escapade and commented on the fact that the whole place was as beautiful as a museum. A museum? Where did these people come from? Something told him that Pemberley, his own home estate, would make the entire lot of them faint.

"It's certainly a little tiring." Darcy replied back to Caroline as she nodded delicately in agreement before laughing incredulously at the aforementioned woman when she spilled a cup of red wine across the lap of a highly elected town official. Oh, this was disastrous! Darcy looked up at the new design consultant, Jane Houston, and sighed. Her family was prominent enough that this whole affair could be over looked on her part. Some of the other employees however,….well. And then he caught a glimpse of the woman beside Jane and his breath almost got caught in the center of his muscled chest. The military had its benefits. She was a delicate creature of average height with her hair caught up in a cascade on top of her head. It was naturally curly. He could tell by the way the light brown strands kept fighting to get out of the clip they had been manipulated into. And while she was a sight in the red elegant gown fitted to her frame, she looked as uncomfortable as her hair did at being pinned up. Darcy's eyes narrowed. It couldn't be.

"It's been a long time since I've seen Jane. She's a sight now, isn't she? She always did have...what's the word...flare?" Bingley asked as he made his way over to Darcy's side from across the room. His cheeks were flushed from dancing. Darcy nodded slightly only because he felt it was expected of him.

"You really should speak with her now that she will be working for this branch of the company. Her father _does_ have connections" Charles commented as he perused the blonde-headed woman with more than a little interest. It was not a good idea for Charles to find himself attracted to that type of woman. Not good at all. Darcy sighed.

"I suppose you are right." He murmured as he walked behind Bingley toward the pair now standing near the double doors at the other side of the room. The brunette rolled her eyes at the blonde and Darcy almost grinned at the effect it had on him. He had a feeling that Jane could be a handful. If courtesy didn't apply, he would probably have rolled his eyes as well. Jane caught sight of the pair and froze before poking Elizabeth firmly in the side. Lizzie shrugged off the offensive finger.

"What…" Liz began as two polished pair of black dress shoes came into view below her gaze now leveled on the floor. Oh no! Liz let her eyes travel upward, past the slacks to the white shirts and sports coats before landing on the two gentlemen's faces. Both were incredibly good looking but something told her that looks could be more than just a little deceiving.

"Mr. Bingley….Mr. Darcy…how nice to see you again." Jane murmured as her cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of Charles. Something told Lizzie they all had a history together—one she most definitely did not belong to. Therefore, she nodded her head respectfully as each perused her curiously. Jane raised one of her brows knowingly.

"Mr. Darcy, Mr Bingley, this is my fellow employee Ms. Elizabeth Bennet." Jane stated evenly as they all nodded at each other politely before Darcy perused them both coldly. Lizzie grinned cordially despite the glare he was sending her way.

"Please, I just prefer Lizzie." She stated quickly before holding out her hand, expecting a hand shake that was not forthcoming.

"It's nice to meet you, _Ms. Bennet_. Please, enjoy your stay. If you will excuse me." He stated evenly before moving away from the small group. Lizzie couldn't help but feel slightly offended, most definitely slighted—a little angry at the way he had shoved off the introduction. Well, she didn't need to get to know him either. Her job didn't depend on his acquaintance just on how well she could do it. Jane smiled up at Charles as he asked her to dance, and she agreed.

Across the room, Lizzie's slightly inebriated mother waved excitedly as she rushed across the floor, passing Darcy as she went while shouting at Lizzie about something that Lizzie automatically tuned out. Liz was too embarrassed by the fact that the whole room now knew her rowdy relations. This couldn't bode well for her. Well, so be it. It had to be revealed sooner or later. She held her head up high as she perused the room stoically. She would not be intimidated. She _wouldn't._

_**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

**_The Ball: Elizabeth's point of view…._ **

My mother could infuriate me at times, enough so that I soon found myself pushing my way through the crowd to the back of the room in order to avoid her until I felt sufficiently hidden by the press of warm bodies. Hiding from her, hiding from _them_. And then that's when I heard _him_. The 'boss'…the man who had undoubtedly snubbed me before. I didn't know much about the way society proceeded in Europe—in that old-fashioned manner that seemed to prevail, but I recognized a snub when I received one. My ears tried tuning him out, but I was wholly unsuccessful. His voice almost haunted me. Ugggggghhhh!

"Are you enjoying the ball?" A soft female voice asked me suddenly, breaking into the irritating drone of Mr. Darcy's voice, and I turned around to find myself staring into the small, almost elfish face of a slight, too thin young woman. She wasn't very attractive in appearance, but her voice was full of kindness and even pleasant to listen to.

"It's been a new experience." I answered hesitantly as she laughed quietly. I smiled, knowing that my expression had given away my disdain.

"If you want me to be honest, then it's dreadful and that ogre Mr. Darcy hasn't made it much better." I stated again as the woman shrugged.

"He seems downright impossible." I murmured almost to myself, clenching my fists as I did.

"He does come across that way. I'm Charlotte Lucas. I'm Darcy's administrative assistant." She remarked as I felt my body go numb. Talk about sticking your own foot in your mouth. I know better than to vent in public, but damn, I was just having one hell of a difficult day. First a flight with my impossible mother, a ball, and a snub followed by mouthing off to my boss' assistant. Yeah, right up there in the record books with a good tornado followed by torrential rain. Charlotte Lucas just held up her hand and shook her head.

"Don't mind the faux pas slip of tongue. Most would agree with you, but he does run the company proficiently and is well respected amongst the modern ton." Charlotte replied as I shrugged at the statement. Maybe, but that didn't always excuse his behavior. I grimaced as his voice rose above the din in reply to something someone had asked him and what he had to say struck me cold. Surprised me? No. But it _did _strike me cold, or better yet, lit a fire in me that--up to this point--had only been smoldering.

"I'm not sure Ms. Bennet will work out." He remarked as another voice, one I recognized immediately as Mr. Charles Bingley, joined in with his.

"Another one of your gut feelings, Will, or is this based on some substantial fact." Bingley asked as Darcy remained quiet.

"I thought so." Bingley stated simply before sighing. "But you have to admit she was easy on the eyes." Bingley commented as Darcy laughed softly.

"She was average, Charles. Nothing to excite the veins. And business isn't run on appearance." Darcy said almost arrogantly as I felt my cheeks flush against the warm rush of air that emanated throughout the room. It was one thing to insult my work once I had done enough work to be insulted, but to insult my pride and my appearance before my job had even begun….grrrr! A space cleared suddenly between myself and the pair of gentlemen as the patrons of the party shifted just in time for Darcy to look up at my obviously distressed expression. I hid it immediately as Charlotte looked between us almost sympathetically. Fate and Mr. Darcy were playing with me, and damned if this was a game I was going to let them win. I had had enough. Two could compete in this contest. So I simpered because, like it or not, simpering is what _he_ seemed to do best. I smiled slightly at Charlotte before remarking steadfastly.

". . . dica al vento ed al fuoco dove arrestarsi, "madame restituito; "ma mi non dica." I bit out soundly in Italian before nodding my head respectfully at Charlotte and making my way back across the room. Let him figure that one out. I even smiled as I approached Jane. Tonight was a good night after all.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_**Darcy's POV…**_

Darcy never even flinched as he realized that Miss Bennet had overheard the conversation between himself and Mr. Bingley. He had been honest, and he never shied away from honesty. She didn't flinch either, smiling pleasantly at his secretary before saying something that confused him greatly. He could speak five different languages, but Italian was not one of them. Bingley shrugged as a woman near them chuckled.

"That girl has spirit." The woman muttered quickly as Darcy looked at her curiously. She worked for him. He knew that, although he couldn't remember her name for the life of him. He had too many employees to place them all, but because he recognized her, he didn't feel impervious to the idea of asking her about the comment.

"What was it she said?" Darcy asked quietly as Bingley and Charlotte leaned in curiously as well. The woman laughed although one could tell she tried hard not too. And then she shrugged.

"The young woman said, and I quote, _'Tell Wind and Fire where to stop," returned madame; "but don't tell me.'_" The lady answered as Charles chuckled. Darcy just stared across the room with renewed interest. So Ms. Bennet could quote Charles Dickens. Most notably a line from his work A Tale of Two Cities, a story about the French Revolution. So, she was proclaiming war on her boss was she? He narrowed his eyes as Caroline Bingley approached him once again.

"How appalling!" She remarked upon overhearing their conversation. "You should fire the woman now." She retorted as Darcy just continued to stare. A fire had begun to burn its way throughout his system—a fire that hadn't burned in a while. He had once joined the military because he had loved the feel of going against the enemy and winning. Now he couldn't help but wonder if Ms. Bennet might be a worthy opponent. Time could only tell.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: Thank you so very much to all of those who have reviewed this. I truly appreciate the comments and the feedback. I know that I have taken quite an interesting take with a classic tale and I appreciate those who have given it a chance, and I hope that you continue to enjoy. The story has moved a little fast as well, similar to the way that Austen wrote the novel, if you've read it, where it will skip from one scene, first at Longbourn, to another quickly so that we find ourselves at Netherfield almost immediately. But that movement seems to work. My story, however, now that most of the characters have been introduced will start to move more slowly allowing us to get a closer feel for the characters although, like in Austen's story, the scenery will change occasionally. I hope that you enjoy the story and thank you again for all those who left comments. You guys are fantastic!--Licensetowrite_**

**_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_**

_**Darcy in his office at Meryton the following late morning…**_

There's this thing about business. One minute, things can be going just the way that you intended them to and then the next, everything can just go straight to hell. Today was most certainly one of those days where Lucifer fell straight into the choir loft and the angels quit singing. And if Darcy's yelling were any indication, then Lucifer's next project was human possession.

"No….I most certainly _do not_ want to talk to the man in charge. _I_ am the man in charge! Isn't there anyone there that speaks English? Hell; French, Russian, Welsh, Danish, or Spanish would do!" Darcy yelled into the phone just as Charles Bingley walked into the door. Charles raised a brow at Darcy and motioned to the watch on his wrist while trying not to grin as Darcy covered the mouth piece of the phone with his hand and shook his head. Bingley smiled too damn much.

"Don't give me that look, Bingley. I'm having a hell of a time just trying to figure out what went wrong at my firm in Rome…." He began just as someone picked up the phone on the other end. Then he just cursed again.

"Dammit! MS. LUCAS!" Darcy yelled, listening as the sound of something hard fell against the floor outside the door. His yelling must have startled Charlotte. Lord knows why. She should be used to it by now.

"Yes sir." Charlotte replied breathlessly as her slightly flushed faced appeared in the doorway. She looked disheveled and breathless, probably trying to reorganize the file system everyone lovingly referred to as 'the dungeon.' By the agitated gleam in her eye, she had probably dropped a box when he yelled. At this point, Darcy was too flustered to care.

"Where the hell is Elizabeth Bennet! As much as I detest this, I need someone who speaks Italian, now!" Darcy yelled again as Charlotte pinched her lips together firmly enough they managed to turn white. She smiled as politely as she could at the two men before turning on her heels and muttering over her shoulder.

"I'll find her now, sir." She reiterated before rushing through the foyer of his office muttering something about 'someone needing to place the man over their lap in order to give him a few good licks' while Charles bit his lower lip to keep from guffawing. Bingley was beginning to think that Darcy might have bitten off more than he could chew by opening the company in Italy. Lord knows, he had never seen Darcy this unbalanced.

"Try breathing, Will. It'll let out some of that excess hot air." Bingley commented as Darcy did his best to keep from making an inappropriate retort. He was, after all, still civilized despite his obvious recent outburst. That is, he was until the woman on the other line started speaking again and then he remembered why the hell he had gotten upset in the first place. Hell and highwater!

"No, I do not want to _Ciao_! You better not hang up…." He roared.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

I heard the footsteps before I even saw Charlotte's petite figure enter into the room I now dominated—working tirelessly on a stack of paperwork from Darcy's Italian company that still needed translating. I hadn't been able to figure out why nobody had even tried tackling it before. There were plenty of people at Imperial other than myself that could speak Italian. But then again, that was before Charlotte had informed me that '_he_' had sent all of those who were proficient in Italian to his office in Rome. Unfortunately, there were still communication problems. Point being, a handful of people who could speak Italian didn't help Imperial out when the other firm had a secretary that couldn't speak English. And since the boss wasn't on location…well, you've heard that saying 'when the cat's way, the mice will play,' right? Let's just say, the mice were more than playing, they were partying. And that's what made me wonder why the hell he had even opened a branch in Italy and why there was such a problem there. The Italians were fun-loving people and as far as I could tell, Darcy was not a fun-loving man. He was too straight-laced with a screw screwed in too tight somewhere. Where was a screwdriver when you needed one, right? I had finally gotten the courage to ask one of the other employees about the Italian venture and discovered that it had something to do with his aunt, Lady Catherine DeBourgh, who had her main residence in Italy and who had talked him into acquiescing to the deal. Talk about family pressure. And then I take one look at my own family and I can't help but shut my mouth. Lords knows, I had spent half the morning trying to tell _my_ mother that I didn't care how rich Mr. Bingley was, I was not asking him out and would she please quit calling me at work.

"Ms. Bennet?" Charlotte asked quietly as she tapped on the door I had left cracked open slightly to let out some of the stuffiness that dominated this small space. I just blew a wisp of hair out of my face and looked at the opening.

"It's Lizzie, just Lizzie." I remarked as Charlotte's head finally popped through, her expression grim and full of irritation. Hmmm…boss man must be upset.

"Mr. Darcy wants to see you ASAP." Charlotte informed me before shrugging her shoulders and turning to walk back down the hall. I could tell that Darcy had upset her and from the stomps that had emanated from the floor above my head, I was beginning to think the ogre himself wasn't far from blowing his top as well—if he hadn't already.

"On my way!" I called after her before pushing the paperwork off of my lap and following quickly after. Was needing to be seen ASAP a good thing or bad? I found myself humming 'Onward desperate soldier' to the tune of the old classic 'Onward Christian Soldier' as I walked.

The conversation near the corporate end of the building grew louder as I grew nearer and I started whistling. There was no way that I was going to let myself be rattled by the man's raised, English voice. Nope, nothing doing in that department. I even managed a small smile as I slipped through his office door, narrowing my eyes as I noticed Charles Bingley leaning against the wall while Darcy kept spouting off rude comments into his phone. Boy, talk about a bad morning, right? I'm assuming that Charles had arrived here to have lunch with Darcy. Those plans looked canceled. Darcy looked up.

"Where the hell have you been?" He muttered as I raised a haughty brow before looking over my shoulder out the door towards the foyer. Was it me or did I see Charlotte and a few other employees duck out of the way so as not to be seen when I turned. What a laugh! So this was entertainment at Imperial. I turned back to Darcy before shrugging.

"Get rid of the dress code so that I can spring my high heel shoes and make the hallways a little shorter, and I'll see what I can't do about making sure I'm here when you 'snap' the next time." I remarked in irritation as Charles sucked in his cheeks and Darcy glared. It took everything in my being not to flinch as he shoved off the comment before holding out the phone.

"Do your job, Ms. Bennet. Talk to these people and find me someone in that department that speaks English." He ordered as I stared at the phone a moment quietly. Oookay...

"I don't have all day." Darcy reiterated as I shook myself out of my reverie before stepping forward and taking the head set out of his hand before placing it against my ear.

"Buon pomeriggio! Il mio nome è Elizabeth Bennet. Chiedo scusa abbondantemente per tutta l'irritazione causata dalle barriere di comunicazione o da qualunque osservazioni rude formulate dal mio impiegato del collega. È ci chiunque che possa parlare a quello parli inglese da tutta la probabilità? (**Good afternoon! My name is Elizabeth Bennet. I apologize profusely for any irritation caused by the communication barriers or by any rude comments made by my fellow employee. Is there anyone I can speak to that speaks English by any chance**?)" I asked slowly and as pleasantly as possible, listening as the obviously flustered person on the other end sighed in relief. I even glared at Darcy for good measure as I realized he was the cause for the distress. I felt slightly appeased by the fact he had no idea I had called him an employee.

"ci sono nessun altro nell'ufficio con me, mancanza. Tutto altrimenti è non disponibile. (**There is no one else in the office with me, miss. Everyone else is unavailable**.)" The secretary there replied breathlessly as I grimaced at the phone. Now, who could I elect to tell Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy that? Oh yeah, there was only myself. Oh boy! He was already getting antsy.

"Are you having communication problems, Ms. Bennet? I want someone on the phone now!" He remarked as I threw him a look that could freeze water before covering the mouthpiece with my hand after asking the woman on the other end to hold on.

"If you had been more proficient and less temperamental then maybe someone would…." I began as Darcy advanced on me suddenly, stopping only inches away from my face. I took in a deep breath. The man was too male for his own damn good. He was also too rich.

"Are you calling me less than proficient, Ms Bennet?" He asked in a low tone as I met his gaze evenly.

"Are you calling me incompetent, Mr. Darcy?" I asked in return as a gasp from the outer room made Charles snicker. Neither Darcy and I were the least bit fazed. Truth be told, I'm not sure either one of us heard it. Instead, the man nearly growled as he pointed at the phone.

"Incompetent? I suppose we shall see, shan't we?" He asked before leaning against his desk and touching the hand that now held the phone pointedly. It wasn't a sexual movement. No, it was more to prove a point that anything, but electric tingles moved up my arm so fast that I almost dropped the friggin' phone. What the hell? I detested the man for God's sake. He stopped moving too.

"What did she say, Ms. Bennet?" He asked slowly, his tone lower than the normal timbre, and I had to focus all of my attention to keep from shivering. I sighed.

"She's says that she is the only one available in the office. There is no one else there, Mr. Darcy." I replied steadily as he stared at me a moment with incredulity. I couldn't fault him. I was surprised by that fact as well. Who wouldn't be? His other companies ran more than efficiently. He was seething, but he stayed composed—the only sign of his discomfiture being the slight tightening of his jaw.

"Ask them who authorized this, Ms. Bennet." He said quietly and with such deadly force that I felt incredibly sorry for the idiot who had made the mistake. I took my hand off the mouth piece, speaking quickly in Italian before pausing to listen to the woman's reply. I covered the phone again.

"She says the man's name is Mr. Wickham." I remarked nonchalantly, shrugging off the name until I saw the reaction it caused in the room. Whispers started up in the hallway, Mr. Darcy grew as still as a statue, and Mr. Bingley almost choked. I was just confused.

"Is there a problem?" I asked timidly as Mr. Darcy slowly placed his hand over mine, removed the phone from my hand, and hung it up with decided derision before looking over at me quietly.

"Pack your bags, Ms. Bennet. I need you in Italy. I think it's time I stepped in and took some matters into my own hands." Darcy replied as Bingley clapped his hands suddenly from behind us.

"I think I could use a change of scenery myself. Hmmm…might even take Caroline along since our other sister is vacationing in Italy. What say you, chap?" Bingley asked merrily as I just looked at him in astonishment. Oh no! Me in Italy with Mr. Darcy and the Bingley elite. Someone save me now! And then someone made it worse.

"I hear they are short a design consultant in that department. You wouldn't need one handy, would you?" Jane asked suddenly from behind the door, the same door I was now convinced was hiding the entire office. Never a dull moment, I tell you. Jane peeked her head around the corner and Bingley grinned.

"One more for the Darcy troop…." Bingley remarked in agreement with Jane as Darcy's jaw grew even tighter before nodding stiffly. I don't think he even knew how to argue the point. Or maybe he was still rolling the 'Wickham' name around in his head and didn't realize what he was agreeing to. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened there.

"How long will we be gone?" I asked quietly as Darcy looked over at me with hard, cold eyes. His gaze actually seemed to soften slightly at the sight of me or maybe my imagination was just working overtime.

"A week." He replied.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

He could tell by the expression on Elizabeth Bennet's face that she was wholly opposed to the idea of going to Italy, but he needed a translator—someone who could remain with him for the duration and tell him exactly what was going on. Presently, he was studying Italian himself, but his understanding and fluid speech was still weak. He had been correct in telling Bingley that Elizabeth was temporary. He had just neglected to tell him it was because he was learning the language himself. Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"Are you sure that it's really necessary that I…." She began as Darcy looked up at her evenly, his facial expression reflecting his distaste. He was putting a stop to this questioning of his authority now! He looked around the room and motioned to those who had entered it.

'Out!" He ordered before placing a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and shaking his head.

"Not you." He finished as he watched Charles and Jane exit together, their gazes locked in a knowing expression that managed to unbalance him slightly. What did they assume he wanted to see Ms. Bennet about? That thought bothered him. Elizabeth just shifted from foot to foot almost restlessly as he shut the door firmly—the resounding thud echoing throughout the room almost eerily. The space instantly felt too small.

"Do you have a problem with the decisions I'm making, Ms. Bennet, or do you have a thing about questioning authority?" Darcy asked as he let his hand fall off of the door knob now behind him. The question was asked in anger he knew, but the morning had been a bad one, the day having tested both his patience _and_ his resolve. He didn't consider himself a cruel man. Quite the contrary actually, but he did expect a lot from those who worked for him. And right now, he wasn't feeling as if he were getting out of his employees all that they were capable of at the moment. Elizabeth turned toward him confidently.

"Do you have a problem realizing when you are asking more of your employees than they may be willing to give? Have you even thought about asking me whether or not I am capable of leaving England when I just traveled here in the first place?" She asked in return ignoring the way he marched now toward his desk, backing away unconsciously as he approached.

"Is this annoying habit of yours where you answer a question with another question something that I should continue to expect from you, Ms. Bennet?" Darcy asked as he rounded his desk, coming to stand near enough to her that she began to circle the desk away from him.

"When I'm given a question I feel is worthy of answering, I will answer it, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth answered steadfastly, holding her ground despite the fact that he now made her more than a little nervous. Darcy sighed.

"I am aware that you are new here, Ms. Bennet, that you may not know the way that we do things here, but I expect my employees to do as I bid not question why I asked them to do it. I promise you, I know what I am doing. If you have problems with authority, I feel we should address that now. If you have problems with me personally, then I feel you should use this unbiased ground to unburden yourself." Darcy stated simply as Elizabeth laughed. Yes, laughed! Why wouldn't she?

"Unbiased ground, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, giggling despite herself. What did he think this was? Hallowed ground? Will looked at her narrowly, inching forward again—smiling almost predatorily as he watched her keep rounding the desk. Before long the two of them would be chasing each other. What was wrong with him? He never lost his cool this way. She was not a good influence on him.

"Are you afraid of me, Ms. Bennet?" He asked almost humorlessly as he raised a brow in curiosity. Elizabeth scoffed.

"Of an arrogant, prideful man whose idea of authority is intimidation? We are not the military, Mr. Darcy. I do not feel the need to salute." Elizabeth countered, unaware how close to home she had gotten with her statement. It's not as if she knew about his military background. Therefore, he ignored her comment.

"Because you seem awful afraid, Ms. Bennet." He reiterated as he continued forward. Elizabeth bumped against the side of the desk as she backed away.

"You seem awful determined to have me afraid, Mr. Darcy." She replied sternly as he raised his brow again.

"Not afraid, Ms. Bennet. Just compliant." He remarked as Elizabeth stopped suddenly, allowing him to come toe to toe with her until both could feel the heat emanating off the other.

"I need you in Italy, Ms. Bennet, not because I want to make you miserable, but because I find that, in this situation, your expertise is needed." Darcy replied in a low tone, his chest heaving from his attempt to control the unsettled feeling she seemed to give him. She stared up at him.

"Then why not just ask? Have you ever been told that you have too much pride?" Elizabeth asked just as quietly. Will just shook his head.

"And this from a woman who automatically assumes I'm an ogre. And don't deny it, Ms. Bennet. I do have two ears in excellent condition. Have you ever been told that you are too prejudice?" Darcy asked as the two faced off speechlessly for a moment, both too talked out to even consider what to say next. Elizabeth finally sighed.

"I'll be packed and ready to go by tonight." She murmured as he nodded almost distantly, watching as she brushed by him toward the door, her arm brushing his as she went. The conversation had not gone anywhere near where he had wanted it to go. He heard Elizabeth stop at the door but didn't turn around.

"Did you own a dog when you were a boy, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, causing Will to turn around in surprise.

"And that's pertinent how, Ms. Bennet?" He asked curiously. She smiled suddenly.

"Haven't you ever heard the joke that "dog" spells "god" backwards? People should consider that it might be the higher power coming down to see just how well they do, what kind of people they are. The animals are right here, right in front of us. And how we treat these companions is a test." Elizabeth answered thoughtfully as Darcy narrowed his eyes.

"And which of your clever authors or philosophers said that, Ms. Bennet?" He asked quietly. She just smiled even wider.

"Would you believe that it was actress Linda Blair. Something else, huh? Coming from a woman who played a possessed girl in the 'Exorcist.'" Elizabeth replied before walking out the door. Darcy just stood there a moment not doing or saying anything and he found himself doing something remarkable—smiling. Damn that woman! Her head popped back into the door suddenly and he frowned.

"I drink my coffee with both cream and sugar, Mr. Darcy. You should try drinking yours other than black." She commented before disappearing again. He waited for the door to close before laughing softly. He wondered what she would say if he told her that he only drank tea. Once again, damn that woman!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of those that reviewed. I am so very grateful. You have no idea. I love Jane Austen and was having a writer's block in an original piece I'm working on and thought this would be a great outlet for me at the moment. Thank you guys so much again. Please keep reading and definitely keep letting me know what you think. Well wishes to you all--licensetowrite**

_**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

_**Elizabeth Bennet….**_

I was shaking when I left his office from the deluge, from the mindless argument that had, all in all, gone nowhere. My fault really. And now, he even knew how I drank my coffee. Too personal for my liking. Uggghhhhh!

"I'm beginning to think that I misjudged you the first time that we met, Lizzie." A voice remarked behind me and I made a face at the thin air before turning around to face Jane.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that I think I misjudged myself as well. Here I thought I was a level-headed, think-through a situation kind of person and here I find I'm short-tempered and sarcastic. What a revelation." I commented shortly before realizing that the outer office was fuller than usual and that half the eyes in it were on me. I looked back at Jane and she shrugged.

"Mr. Darcy really should think about investing in sound proof windows and doors." She replied sheepishly as I felt the undeniable pink flush of embarrassment begin to creep up my neck. A hand landed on my shoulder.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Ms. Bennet. You have no idea how many times we all silently cheered for you in there. Talk about tension." A smiling Charlotte murmured while I wished desperately for a hole to open up in the floor so that I could fall through it. Damn the man! Jane just laughed.

"I'm impressed that you can quote Linda Blair." She stated as I threw her a look that could turn a corpse into ash.

"Bite me, Jane." I remarked before marching through the office toward the exit. If we were leaving on the morrow, I suppose I needed to be ready. Several people gave me the thumbs up sign and I blushed harder. I was not easily embarrassed, but well…something strange had happened in that office—something I was really having a hard time defining. What it was...that's another thing entirely. If I was being truly honest with myself, I would have called it flirting or maybe even that impossible thing called desire. But, hey, I was enjoying lying to myself instead. I didn't want to analyze the situation. The building's re-enforced doors closed behind me as I finally stepped out into the fresh, almost heavy British air before beginning to walk towards Longbourn. Yes, walk. I needed the time to figure things out. And that's when I realized something else. I enjoyed the walk. Walking home in the countryside wasn't like walking home in the big city. It was comfortable, peaceful—communal. It caused me to relate to that need Henry David Thoreau seemed to inhabit where you just disappear into the wilderness and observe its many facets. Truth is, peace brings forth realization. I smiled to myself as I went, ignoring the few cars that did pass me on the road until Longbourn came into view and then I sighed. My family.

"Off work already? You didn't lose your job, did you?" Mama asked as I entered the house. Why the hell was she awake? I shook my head.

"No, mama, I didn't lose my job. I have to pack to go out of town. Mr. Darcy needs me in Italy for the week to help settle some problems they're having there." I remarked off-handedly before heading toward the stairs. I could hear Lydia and Kitty yelling at each other while Mary tried playing the estate's grand piano very badly. Ouch! And then mama screeched.

"Italy? Alone? Tell me that you won't be alone with that horrid man! Did you know that Ms. Dane, she works here at the estate, told me that she heard from the maid that the maid heard from Mr. Darcy's driver that the man actually thought this family was below social standings in behavior and that we should really think about drinking out of the trough with the other horses and mules? How insulting is that? Well, we don't need approval from that bull-headed antagonist….." Mama spouted off as I finally held up my hand in the classic 'shushing' gesture. She didn't even blink so I merely interrupted.

"That bull-headed antagonist is my boss, mama, and we won't be alone. The Bingleys and Jane Houston will be going on the trip as well." I commented before trying once again to make it up the stairs. Mama clapped.

"Mr. Bingley! Now that is a fine specimen of a man! You should try for sympathy points. Get sick on the trip, trip, break a leg…something as long as you garner a little attention from him. The man's rolling in money and he's always so…happy!" Mama exclaimed as I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"I have no designs on that man, mama. He's not even my type." I replied as she laughed.

"Pish, posh! You don't even have a type, Lizzie. Don't be so naïve." Mama stated cheerfully as she followed me closely up the stairs. There were days like this when I couldn't help but wonder how justifiable the homicide would be if I tripped suddenly and shoved the woman backwards. I know, I know. Really, I loved her and she really did love me in her own unique way, but she was also the type of person who had one of those overwhelming personalities. The kind you laughed at but made sure you ducked away from when you saw them coming around the corner. You know, right up there with Bozo the clown and Homer Simpson. Why did Marge stay with that man anyhow?

"Let it go, mama! I have too much on my plate right now." I provided defiantly, hoping I suppose that she would take the hint and back off. Nope, not my mother. She just scoffed.

"There is always enough room on the plate for dessert and that man Bingley can definitely be considered dessert.." She remarked before smacking her lips together in adoration. I stopped in mid-stride.

"Mama!" I exclaimed before raising one of my brows and giving her a look that said 'that's enough.' She shrugged as I turned on my heels, marched into the room I was staying in, and slammed the door soundly in her face. I loved her, but today was not a day that I could deal with her. The phone rang just as I made it over to my bed and I picked it up carefully.

"Hello." I answered quickly while leaning over to grab the suitcase I had shoved underneath the bed. The voice on the other line hesitated.

"Lizzie, it's Charlotte Lucas. I've been really battling with myself about whether or not I should tell you this and have decided that it may be for the best—that you can sort of walk into the fray with your guns fully loaded…" She began and the more she talked, the higher my blood pressure went, the angrier I became, and the more vengeful I found myself.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

"I believe, dear chap, that you may be enamored." Charles remarked suddenly as he entered the office upon Elizabeth Bennet's departure. Darcy didn't even look up as he perused a stack of paperwork in front of him with enough scrutiny to give a blade of grass a headache.

"I have no such intentions in that regard, Charles. You know me better than that." Will replied before finally leaning back in the desk chair he now occupied. He seemed distracted as he began strumming his pencil along the desk and Charles watched quietly.

"Do I, Darcy? Do I really know you better than that?" Charles asked as he walked around the desk before leaning over to peruse the post-it note Darcy had been doodling on as it lay on his stack of folders. Charles peeled off the small yellow square of paper carefully.

"Because it seems to me that I have suddenly been made aware of how much I truly _don'_t know you. And don't give me any looks because you and I have known each other long enough to know we can be straight forward with each other. I don't know what just happened between you and Elizabeth Bennet, but I do know that I have never, and I mean never, seen you that wrapped up in one person—that…I don't know…almost carefree. You have always dominated an argument and ended it when the other person tried to disregard your statements, but you didn't disregard Ms.Bennet, Darcy. You know what that tells me?" Charles continued before sitting casually on the edge of the desk. Darcy shook his head before standing up and grabbing his suit jacket off of a peg near the door.

"That tells me you need to learn to mind your own business, Charles. As for Italy, if you plan on leaving with us, I expect you here bright and early in the morning." Darcy reiterated before walking out the door. He wasn't having this conversation right now. The only thing he wanted to do was drive home, put his feet up (and yes, he actually knew how to do that), and get a nice glass of something alcoholic in preparation for the following day. Why Elizabeth Bennet's image kept popping into his head…well, he wasn't going to dwell on the why's. What he needed to do was forget about the entire encounter. A dog ran across the parking lot as he approached his car and Darcy couldn't help it, he laughed. He even felt tempted to call Ms. Bennet up and tell her that 'yes, he had had a dog as a boy—a black lab by the name of Bugle. Wouldn't she be surprised? He had even let the flea bag sleep with him despite the trouble it had caused him with his parents. Wow, he hadn't thought about that in years. His sleek black sports car roared to life as he inserted the key into the ignition and he found himself sitting idle in it in reverie. She was insubordinate, crass, and irritating, but she had eyes that could burn through a hole in the ground. Staring into them was like falling into a pool and drowning. No! She riled him to no end, and he wouldn't let a pretty pair of eyes persuade him from his cause. She was temporary. That was that. She was not socially acceptable and her problem with authority would not be tolerated. His mind made up, he shifted the car into reverse and headed home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** **Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews! Apologies on the wait for the next update as my birthday was this past weekend, and I was quite indisposed (laugh). I hope that you are all still checking in and will continue to read. And I truly hope that you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wonderful wishes--licensetowrite._

* * *

_**

**_The Next Morning…_**

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

I was fuming by the time I met up with the group headed to Italy on Darcy's private plane. The man was just downright infuriating, cold-hearted, and a…a…oh, drat! He was just a plain monster. Temporary indeed! Charlotte's words rolled over me again and again rather soberly, almost in a rhythm similar to that of the funeral march. I needed this job. That phone call had caused a cold rage to start to develop in the pit of my stomach and it had been eating away at me since the previous evening. Jane, who had informed me last night where we were to meet, smiled at me softly as I joined them while I avoided Darcy's penetrating stare and Caroline's haughty one. No one should have to put up with their arrogance! I was not about to be sociable. Who needed society? Damn the man! He must have known that I was angry—must have known that the pinched expression on my face was nothing more than disgust. And yet he smiled—throwing that half grin of his around the lot near the plane as if he thought the sun and the moon rose and set depending on his perfect pearl white teeth. It shouldn't disturb me as much as it did-shouldn't cause the slow burn that emanated throughout my system, causing even my veins to bulge.

"You seem out of sorts today, Ms. Bennet." Darcy whispered near my ear as he passed, his breath fanning the sensitive skin that surrounded my ear lobe. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I followed silently as we all began to board the luxury plane, taking seats along the interior without a word. I didn't want to answer his silent question, wasn't sure I could without exploding in his face. So, instead, I kept my mouth shut as we all buckled in as the pilot took off, keeping to ourselves until we were up in the air. I took a book out of a bag at my feet and opened it, determined to settle into the short flight over by absorbing myself in literature and ignoring everyone else present. And then Caroline ruined it.

"I say, Ms. Bennet, do you fancy yourself an extensive reader? If so, you would swoon at the collection of books stored at the library at Pemberley. It is quite impressive." Caroline remarked as I peeked over the edge of the page I was trying so hard to comprehend. Okay? And what the hell was Pemberley? Grrrrr! I smiled sweetly as I flipped the page, knowing that I had not even begun to read a word embossed on the page I had just been perusing. The woman just _had_ to open her mouth.

"I wouldn't call myself an extensive reader, but I do enjoy it." I replied carefully, feeling almost as if I were walking into some kind of trap. Caroline shouldn't worry overly much. After all, I _was _only temporary. She grinned at me almost predatorily.

"In my opinion, all ladies should be extensive readers as well as formally trained in etiquette and in the arts. Do you not agree, Mr. Darcy?" Caroline asked sweetly, seemingly startling Darcy out of his own thoughts as he turned toward her then. He snorted softly as if annoyed at being pulled into this silly conversation. And it was silly.

"It does seem to be a sign of an accomplished woman if she knows enough about literature to apply it to every day circumstances." He remarked off-handedly as I stared at him in agitation. I was sorely aggrieved by him at the moment and did not want to listen to anything that he had to say, much less to any of his opinions. The dratted creature! Caroline nodded at him in agreement.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy has quite the list of what he perceives to be the ideal woman. Something he compiled when we were teenagers. Do you not, Mr. Darcy?" Caroline asked as Will looked over at her sternly. His irritation level was growing and it was obvious.

"It was the idle-hood of youth, Caroline. It comes for naught now." He replied quietly before looking down at a stack of paperwork in his lap as Caroline shrugged.

"And yet I still recall it vividly. It seems I have even strived to fulfill that list a time or two myself. What was it now? Hmmm…an extensive reader, demure, mannerly, attractive, unobtrusive, polite, intelligent…I think that about touches on all of the areas that you attempted to cover when it comes to the perfect female." Caroline noted as Fitzwilliam Darcy peered over at her quietly, the expression on his face bespeaking his ire at her free speak. I recognized it for what it was—a jab at me, and I reciprocated only because I was in one hell of a mood.

"That, Ms. Bingley, is not an ideal woman. It's a puppet. To strive for that would be nothing short of idiocy." I replied with vigor as Jane looked up at me in surprise and Charles actually gasped. Caroline paled and blanched. I realized too late that it was a cold, cruel remark that was probably bitingly rude, but I didn't care. Darcy, however, did. He looked at me with an expression darkened now from the cool, easy features that he had presented to me earlier. His paperwork seemed forgotten.

"Another ideal, Ms Bennet, is for women to strive not to be rude and callous—to learn to hold their tongues, especially in front of their superiors." Will Darcy stated in a low, dangerous tone as I stared up at him unblinkingly, my normal reserve all by forgotten. I was modest and I was unobtrusive when I needed to be, but like any other female scorned, hell hath no fury. I glowered.

"Spoken sir from a man whose business thrives on daring, for that is journalism is it not? Should I truly watch my tongue, sir, when this tongue is only temporarily in service? You speak so of idealism and yet you have none of your own. It was Cicero who once said, "Where is there dignity unless there is honesty?" or do you follow your own rules, Mr. Darcy, and expect others to follow yours? There was another man, Don Marquis, who once stated that, "Honesty is a good thing, but it is not profitable to its possessor unless it is kept under control." That seems to be your lot in life, sir. I am incensed. Shouldn't a woman expect the same from a man that he expects from her?" I asked angrily, ignoring the way that everyone know looked on in shocked surprise. He had lied to me about my position at Imperial, and I was angry. He could have told me that I would eventually be dismissed. I took in a deep breath, shocked myself at the words that had flowed out of my mouth. The man made me…different, more open. More honest with myself, and I was suddenly afraid of how he would react to what I had said. Jane whistled and murmured something along the lines of 'you go girl!' under her breath as Darcy looked at me quietly for a moment—differently, almost as if he were seeing me for the first time. I couldn't blame him. I was seeing myself for the first time as well. He scowled.

"And Thomas Sowell stated, "There are only two ways of telling the complete truth—anonymously and posthumously." You misperceive me, Ms. Bennet." He remarked quickly as I stared at him evenly.

"Do I?" I asked him almost in a whisper. Was I not temporary? "You certainly have your pride, Mr. Darcy." I commented softly as I watched his jaw clench.

"And you, Ms. Bennet, have your prejudice." He commented back as I sat back in my seat soundly, exhausted once again after yet another verbal argument left open as to who had succeeded to overwhelm whom. We stared at each other willfully for a moment, longer than probably necessary, but I couldn't pull my gaze away and neither, it would seem, could he. Jane cleared her throat and began discussing the wonders of Italy, as if the change of topic would ease the tension and, while the others did relax as they talked, Darcy and I just remained as stone statues. The small couch on the luxury plane where he sat was across from mine and being long legged, his knees bumped ceremoniously into mine as brief turbulence rocked the mode of transportation. I tried easing my hand down the skirt I wore to pull it over my knees only to accidentally rub his knee in the process. Such simple touches and yet every nerve ending in my body tingled in awareness. I loathed him and yet I could not help but shiver. My eyes met his again, and the sparkle that met my gaze took me off guard—it was almost as if he were enjoying the sparring, the battle we seemed to be waging. Again, I shivered.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Will Darcy…**_

Will watched Elizabeth quietly—keeping his senses honed as he surveyed her upon exiting the plane. He had underestimated the woman enough. If he had thought that she was once a worthy opponent, then the plane incident had more than proved his suspicions were correct. She could cut people down with words the same way a warrior could lay siege with a sword. And still he fought the need to admire her. She was right in her own way to distrust him, to view him as an ogre who would throw a woman and her family out into the streets without any resources. That's how he wanted to be viewed—cynical and intimidating. Fear made people listen to you. But, truth was, he wasn't that way. He had no intentions of dismissing Elizabeth Bennet—never had. No, he only intended to move her to a department back in the states that he felt benefited her services more. Since the European office was his home base, there were class distinctions there and certain elements of propriety that had to be followed that he didn't think her capable of. Now he wasn't so sure he was right. Now, he felt a little niggling thing called doubt. And he loathed doubt. Doubt made you weak. She barely glanced at him as she scooted into the car that had met them in Rome beside him. Their bodies touched as everyone else climbed in, and he tried his best to ignore the way it made him feel. He didn't need to be attracted to this woman. If he wanted company, then he had a list of high society women he could call who would appreciate his attention. He was somewhat of a womanizer only because he feared commitment. Commitment interfered with business. Elizabeth shifted slightly as Jane crawled in, causing her to fall over him a moment. She supported herself by placing her hand against his outer thigh and he winced, not in pain, but in a different sort of agony. Maybe he did need to call one of the women he occasionally went out with.

"I'm sorry." She murmured as he nodded at her quietly, watching as her eyes perused him unabashedly. She seemed to come to a silent decision, and he frowned as she leaned suddenly toward him.

"Could I talk with you later?" She asked in a whisper, her cheeks flushing despite her attempt to remain unfazed by their proximity. He pretended not to notice as he nodded quickly. Her request intrigued him. He wouldn't pretend otherwise, not when she and he seemed to be at literal war with the other. Was she about to wave the white flag of truce? The thought made him laugh. Yeah, right. And still her request plagued him as the car drove through the streets, although Elizabeth's sudden excitement at viewing Rome almost made him forget about the feel of her breath against his neck as she asked him whether she could speak with him. Passing some of the city's major attractions, Darcy grunted as Lizzie…when had he started thinking of her as Lizzie….unexpectedly threw herself over his lap to look out the window, childlike wonder flitting across her face. He almost smiled at her innocence, but he wasn't fooled by it. He had seen the tiger that lurked within her naïve skin and knew that, despite her youth, the woman had claws and wasn't shy about using them. His admiration grew. The third time she threw herself across him, he sighed before placing his hand on her shoulder and pulling her face up to his. It wasn't a romantic gesture, just one that allowed him to speak to her quietly.

"Would you like to switch places with me?" He asked softly as she grinned cheekily. He almost smiled back.

"Could I?" She asked in return as he nodded before making her gasp when he lifted her slim figure up and over him before scooting over and sitting her back down. She seemed shocked at his gesture, but she weighed nothing and he was tired of her elbowing him in the gut. One look at Charles and Caroline sitting across from him and he knew he was in for an interesting evening upon reaching his aunt's estate.

Catherine DeBourgh always insisted he use her residence when he was in the vicinity, but he couldn't help but be wary about the situation, especially since his aunt tended to be…well…she was just one interesting character. And she was determined to wed him to his cousin Lady Anne despite his disgust at the thought. He constantly argued with her about the subject. It was incest, he would insist. She would counter by pointing out that the nobility had been doing it since the beginning of time. He blanched at her insistence. He would not and never would marry his own relation, even if it was a customary practice in the days of old. He tensed as they drew nearer to Catherine's estate outside of Rome. Lizzie seemed to feel his discomfort because she looked away from the window then in order to gaze back at him. He hated that she could sense his unease now, as if by arguing they were suddenly developing some sort of strange connection. Fate was not being kind. She looked out the window again and gasped. Most people did upon viewing Rosings Park. It could easily be considered the eighth wonder of the world. And Catherine, more than anyone else, would agree with that synopsis. If Elizabeth Bennet had accused him of pride, then he couldn't wait to see how she reacted to his ornery aunt. The car slowed and stopped. And then the doors to Rosings Park opened. Yes, Darcy suddenly couldn't wait to see how this visit would go over.

* * *

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

And the heavens opened the sun unto the world and the choir of angels sang…dear Lord! What a sight! A person could get lost just trying to use the bathroom at night. Lord knows, the idea of cleaning such a place could give a person a fit of apoplexy. And although I was rather contrite after the arguments with Darcy and confused over the gesture he had made upon relinquishing his seat for me, even I wasn't immune to the monstrosity in front of me. How friggin' wealthy were these people? It flummoxed me, enough so that I now questioned whether or not I still had the ability to speak. And then the door to the place opened and a woman of undetermined age stepped out into the late morning sun, shielding her eyes and glaring at the sky as if she were angry at it for not creating a cloud cover for her. Oh, dear Lord, another Darcy. When Jane had mentioned that we would be staying at the DeBourgh estate, I hadn't thought anything of it then. But now…well, I felt like a duck out of water who had clipped wings and couldn't fly away.

"Impressive, isn't it?" A voice whispered beside me, and I frowned as I realized it was Will…Will? When had I started thinking of him as Will? Ughhhh!

"It's just a house." I replied back with a shrug as he laughed softly from above my shoulder. Boy, the man was tall.

"Uh huh." He murmured as he brushed past me to greet the woman who moved now down the stairs, her nose poised slightly in the air.

"Auntie." Darcy remarked as she accepted his small kisses on each of her cheeks delicately. Watching the woman was like watching something off of the History Channel. She was demure and straight-laced, and it was slightly intimidating. I blew a stray wisp of my hair out of my face as I squared my shoulders and marched forward. Intimidating my ass! The whole family could kiss their own old fashioned arses for all I cared. Lady Catherine DeBourgh looked up then and nodded to us all respectfully, accepting the kisses that came from Caroline and Charles Bingley next as they were old acquaintances with her as well.

"Your sister Lady Hurst resides now within. I convinced her and her husband to stay here while you are visiting." Catherine informed Caroline and Charles regally before turning to face Jane and I. Jane smiled winsomely, and I watched as Charles stared at her from over Catherine's shoulders. There was something going on there. He was the reason she had known where to go in order to fly into Italy. He was also the reason she had known we were staying here. I could almost bet on it.

"Jane." Catherine said civilly as Jane bowed her head slightly. It was obvious they knew each other too from some past soiree or whatever they had in Europe that might conduce as formal get-togethers. Now, the woman turned toward me and her face grew rigid—pinching together in a gesture that reminded me of how my sister Kitty appeared when she ate a lemon. The thought made me smile despite the cold look that gleamed in her eyes. It wasn't as if I were going to win a popularity contest anyhow. To hell with it, right?

"Lady Catherine." I murmured while nodding respectfully as Jane had done before. Looking up, I could see Darcy's eyes twinkling in amusement as he surveyed the situation and I had the strange, childish urge to stick my tongue out at him. Lord knows, I probably would have too if Catherine hadn't nodded back at me then.

"Ms. Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?" She asked as I nodded again. I felt suddenly like one of those bobbing headed dolls that sat on the dashboard of cars. Deuced propriety! She nodded back before motioning toward the house with her weathered hands.

"Lunch has been prepared. Please come in and join me." She remarked as we all followed her when she turned on her heels. I fell behind a little as I stopped to peer up at the house quietly, feeling suddenly bereft by its size. It seemed lonely somehow—empty despite its grandeur. Realizing that everyone else was almost inside the door, I turned to head up the stairs as well only to find myself peering into Darcy's inquisitive stare. He had fallen behind too. Was he that aware of me? He blinked then and turned on his heel before heading into the house. His retreating back mesmerized me as he walked away. Something told me things were going to explode before long. I suppose it didn't matter. I was, after all, only temporary.


	12. Chapter 12

"You two are going to let your stubborn hides eat you alive." A voice whispered confidently from behind me, followed closely by the feel of Jane's hand as she grabbed the crook of my arm pointedly before pulling me into a dim corridor off the dining room. I didn't argue with her only because even I was having a hard time believing that I had only been involved with Darcy professionally for a few days now. Is it possible to meet someone for the first time and yet feel as if you had known them forever? I had always scoffed at those fairy tale ideals—the ones that depicted men and women who ended up in bed, married, and pregnant with their first children in under a week. It was laughable really. And the man Jane happened to be referring to was, by far, the most despicable man I had ever met. I glared at her—amazed too that I had only known her a short period of time as well, unless, of course, you count the year we spent working next to each other without a single word between us.

It's not stubbornness, Jane. It's disgust." I reiterated as I tried to disentangle myself from her hold. It was too presumptuous of her to make references about my love life. I didn't feel comfortable referring to Fitzwilliam Darcy at all. He and the three words 'my love life' was not something I considered compatible. Therefore, I was determined to ignore him. Or I had been. Now I knew I needed to try a different tactic. Someone cleared their throat from out in the dining room and Jane and I both jumped as we were brought out of our reverie.

"Unless you intend to eat outside in the hallway, I suggest you two find a way to join us." The wavering voice demanded as I sighed. It was the dowager enmity herself. Where did they dig up the hag anyway? King Tut's tomb? I _have_ heard the place is cursed. I realize I am belligerent, but the woman just rubbed me wrong. Jane rolled her eyes as she pushed me slowly into the room, both of us raising our brows sheepishly when we noticed everyone else had already taken a seat. I grumbled to myself as I noticed the two empty seats were between Charles and Will.

"So Ms. Bennet, I have heard quite a bit about your proficiency in Italian. Are you versed in anything outside of writing and translating?" Catherine DeBourgh asked me curiously as I took my seat next to Darcy. The food looked appetizing despite the way my stomach cringed at the questioning. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I placed my hands respectfully in my lap.

"I sketch some, and I had an aunt that once taught me how to play the piano. It's been years, however, since I've even been near a keyboard of any sort." I replied with a shrug, the aroma from the cuisine making my stomach growl as Catherine nodded towards me in sudden interest.

"Really? The piano? I have a special soft spot for those interested in music. Did you know that Darcy's sister Georgiana is proficient in the piano herself? We expect her to study classical music once she reaches the college level." The woman proclaimed proudly as I snuck a look over at Darcy with surprise. He had a sister? He didn't return my look so I smiled quickly at the dowager.

"I wouldn't really consider myself proficient or even more than vaguely interested in the art myself, although I do enjoy music." I remarked with a shrug, sighing as I started to reach for the utensils at the side of the plate. Ahhh, but the old woman wouldn't have it. Why let someone enjoy a visit to a beautiful country or enjoy dining on fine cuisine when you can make them miserable instead, right? It seemed to be the Darcy family motto.

"Well, I find myself sympathizing for you then, dear, for music is the key to the human soul. It is also the key to propriety." Catherine said in a tone marked by insolence. My ire rose. Had the hag just snubbed me? Oh, uh uh, I don't think so. I grinned through clenched teeth after gazing a moment helplessly at the untouched victuals.

"And here I always thought that human emotion was the key to the human soul, that respect was the key to propriety." I replied slowly, letting my gaze meet with the woman's from across the table as everyone suddenly stopped eating. At least they had gotten a chance to _taste_ theirs. Catherine was sitting rigidly as she perused me anew.

"You're rather opinionated, Ms. Bennet." Madame DeBourgh remarked in a tone that my own parents used to utilize when lecturing me as a child. It unnerved me.

"I'm only opinionated, mam, when I feel I have been insulted falsely. I have never pretended to be proper, have never assumed that I was well-rounded. Point being, I have never portrayed myself to others as anything other than myself. I do, however, feel that everyone should be respected despite their station or lot in life. And if music were the key to the human soul, then a good deal of the world would be soulless." I countered softly, suddenly aware that I was, once again, the one being stared at in accusation and surprise. I was growing weary of it, my modest soul taking a beating that it had never endured until now. And then 'he' did something that surprised me so much I actually _lost_ my appetite.

"Hear hear, Ms. Bennet. That was well-spoken. Now, auntie, I do advise you to allow Ms. Bennet the chance to eat her lunch." Darcy stated unexpectedly before continuing to eat his own meal as if nothing had transpired. Conversation resumed around us after each of the people surrounding the table looked their share beforehand. I'm sure my face was flaming. Why had he taken up for me when he had been doing nothing but belittling me as much as his aunt had since the first moment we met? I didn't get it. I played with the uninteresting food a moment before stealing yet one more glance at his stoic profile.

"Something wrong?" Darcy asked me quietly as I scrunched up my nose at him and shook my head.

"You could have waited to be my champion until after I had tasted the food." I answered lightly as he laughed. Yes, laughed. It must have been an action he practiced rarely because his aunt's head flew up sharply at the sound and her eyes narrowed at the rumbling that emanated from his chest.

"Does chivalry suit me so badly, Ms. Bennet?" Darcy questioned with a wry grin. One glance at his face and I knew that I had amused him. Stranger yet was the sudden realization that I had been _trying_ to amuse him. Scary thought, that.

"Only because you seem a little rusty at it, sir." I replied with a small smile before finally sampling a little of the food just about the time I noticed everyone else getting up in preparation to depart the room. Damn, just my luck! Oh well, I wasn't that hungry anyhow. Following everyone's lead, I pushed back my chair and stood while watching as Catherine DeBourgh waved her agitated hand toward the stairway in the foyer.

"I will let you all get to the affair of unpacking and getting down to whatever business you need to attend to." She said evenly as I watched everyone file out slowly, my eyes narrowing at the murderous glances thrown at me from Caroline and her sister, Lady Hurst. Hurst had not said a single word throughout the meal, with the exception of whispers aside to Caroline. Jane and I had obviously not been introduced to the woman, which expressed just how much the patroness disapproved of us. What a mess!

"You wanted to speak to me, Ms. Bennet?" Darcy asked me suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts as I realized he and I were the only two left in the room. I nodded as I turned toward him uncertainly, allowing my gaze to meet his interested one unflinchingly.

"Teach me." I commanded suddenly with a shrug as his mouth tightened audibly before he leaned against the table as if he needed support. Now that I think about it, those two words could mean any sort of inappropriate things. Oops.

"Excuse me?" He asked uncertainly as I stared at him pointedly. There was no turning back now.

"I want you to teach me this intrepid propriety that you all seem so wrapped up in." I explained as he stared at me a moment before shaking his head resolutely.

"That's out of the question, Ms. Bennet." He commented quietly as I felt the anger banked in the pit of my stomach flare now to life.

"What do you mean it's out of the question? I've been beat down, pitied, and frowned upon since my arrival at your company. If I am to have the same opportunity as everyone else, then you of all people might as well show me what is so all-fired important about propriety. It's not as if I'm asking you to seduce me, Mr. Darcy." I commented before realizing what my anger had allowed to escape from my idiotic mouth. Please tell me I hadn't said that. Darcy's eyes darkened as he looked at me and I shivered at its intensity.

"And you, Ms. Bennet, do not believe that propriety can be seducing?" Darcy asked in a low tone as I looked at him suddenly in reservation. Of course it couldn't be. Could it? I grinned good-naturedly.

"No, I wouldn't precisely describe it as seducing." I answered in a choked tone as he smiled suddenly before pointing at a clock on the wall next to the door.

"You may be surprised, Ms. Bennet. Fine, aside from a firm well-placed swat on your bottom, propriety may do you some good. There's no time today to worry much about going into the office so meet me down here in about an hour and wear heels." He whispered as he brushed by me brusquely. Oh my! What had I just done?

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I am enjoying working on this piece. It does flounder from the 'Austen' story quite a bit as I can be a little more risque in a modern piece. I do intend to fit most of the characters from the novel into this piece as I go, although they may be portrayed in a different light as I am using the characters from the novel the way I believe they would have behaved in the modern period. With the exception of Jane, of course. I needed a lively character, apart from Lizzie and just thought it would be fun to make it Jane. Please keep reading and let me know what you think. Lots of great and wonderful wishes to you all!--licensetowrite**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note: You guys are seriously fantastic! I didn't think I would get so many reviews and I truly appreciate it. Wow, I feel humbled. Thank you so much. And for that, I have decided to try and update a little this weekend as well. This chapter is a little short but a necessary lead in, I felt, to the lesson chapter. It also demonstrates how I believe that the characters in the story view the growing relationship between Darcy and Elizabeth. Also, there enters in more major characters as the story progresses and drama will unfold. Thank you guys so very much. I hope you keep reading and reviewing!

* * *

**_

Mr. Darcy…

"You what?" Bingley asked in astonishment as Darcy looked around quietly for a book his sister had been required to learn at finishing school. Will barely glanced up as Bingley laughed until nothing but gasps and pants emanated from his scrawny hide. Let him laugh!

"You can't stand the woman, Darcy! I admit, you have allowed her a little more leniency than most, but I've seen the disgusted glances you've thrown her way. Yet, you wavered under her demand to be taught etiquette?" Bingley questioned in shock as he approached his friend stealthily, his face contorted in an expression that bespoke the confusion he now felt. Darcy knew he shouldn't have said anything, but Bingley could be deuced beguiling at times, not accepting the excuse Darcy had given him for not wanting to go to dinner with Bingley and his sisters that night. And, obviously, his friend had missed the other sort of glances he had thrown Ms. Bennet's way. Darcy sighed.

"She's right, Charles. It will benefit the company and keep her from embarrassing me at the functions we are required to attend until I am able to let her go." Darcy stated simply with a small shake of his head as he finally unearthed the book of 'rules' that the 'refined woman' was supposed to follow in society. Bingley watched all of this in quiet acceptance, knowing that his friend hated to be frowned upon when it came to the behavior of his employees and so he accepted the excuse. Bingley shrugged.

"I suppose it speaks highly of her that she's even interested in learning. Although, personally, I enjoy her high spirit and out-spoken nature. It's rather refreshing." Charles remarked cheerfully as Darcy looked over at him quietly. If only the man knew how much he actually loathed and looked forward to the lessons himself. If only he knew it was not only for business related reasons. If only he knew that the word 'seducing' kept ringing though his head in a way that made him wish quite emphatically for a large bottle of aspirin. The woman was becoming a thorn in his side. Or was she?

It was obvious that Bingley was somewhat confused about his relationship with Ms. Elizabeth Bennet, but at least he didn't seem to think there was an underlying smoldering passion between the two anymore. _If_ he had even thought that before. Unfortunately, Darcy knew that wasn't the case with his aunt and the female Bingleys. They _did_ sense it. The way they reacted around Lizzie reflected the fact that they knew something was brewing. He supposed he couldn't blame them, not when he was blaming himself for allowing any inexcusable behavior. She was not the type of woman men like him married or even caroused with. It tarnished his high society mold. It was his experience that men like him, as it was with royalty, were required to marry well. And why the hell had marriage even popped into his head? Lord, he was deuced confused! If Charles hadn't have been in the room, he would have thrown the book of 'rules' against the wall and watched with satisfaction as it fluttered to the floor.

* * *

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

"You're determined to drive yourself mad, aren't you?" Jane asked me incredulously as I rolled my eyes at the amused way she uttered the sentence while stalking me quietly around the room. Where were those friggin' high heels of mine? I loved wearing flat dress shoes, but I did own at least one pair of heels, didn't I? I ignored Jane as she watched me quietly before throwing her hands into the air in agitation.

"The man is a monster, Elizabeth! You of all people are aware of that. I meant what I said earlier, that both of your stubborn hides would be the death of you. He knows he needs you professionally. You know it too, but still you let him get under your skin, constantly biting his head off about everything. Can't you two be civil? And learning etiquette from the man? Come on! That's like learning manners from a pig." Jane lectured as I finally unearthed my heels from underneath the bed. Blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes, I peeked over the mattress cautiously.

"I grant you, he is despicable, but I will not let his pride become my downfall, Jane. If he is that dead set on me acting properly in society, then why not let him attempt to teach me?" I asked Jane reasonably as she huffed and puffed in irritation in the corner. All of those days and nights cursing the man under my breath while in her company must have had the effect I had intended upon her. Or had it? I knew that Caroline, her sister, and Madame DeBourgh were all wary of me. Now, I wondered if Jane suspected the same thing that they did. Dear Lord, I hoped not. I truly hoped that the confused feelings I seemed to be having were not that obvious. Jane raised an eyebrow.

"You know what therapists say about argumentative people of the opposite sex? They say it's unrequited passion." Jane said with a slight tilt to her voice that made me groan in irritation.

"You watch entirely too much Dr. Phil." I muttered as she laughed before shrugging.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Just don't let him change you, Lizzie, just so that you can stay in the company. You deserve better than that. You don't need him or Imperial. I haven't known you long, but…well, you are a unique individual. Stay that way." She mumbled as I smiled gently over at her. She was more than unique herself.

"Try smiling Jane. I promise the loathsome man cannot change the way I act, only the way that I do things. Mostly, I need him to teach me what fork to use at the dinner table." I joked as Jane laughed before moving towards me and patting me on the back.

"Ahhhh, and here I was hoping I could buy you a bib for your birthday." She cracked back as we stood there a moment uncomfortably. It's strange how close you can become to some people in such a short period of time. I grinned at her suddenly before shooing her out the door. She was supposed to meet Charles and his sisters for dinner. I think I was more afraid for her at that meal than I was for myself with Mr. Darcy. Or was I?


	14. Chapter 14

_**Elizabeth Bennet...**_

**_Let the lessons begin..._**

"You're late, Ms. Bennet." Darcy stated commandingly as I entered the door leading into the dining room, wobbling slightly on the heels as the floor changed beneath my feet into the sleek material that covered the dining room floor. I rolled my eyes heavenward, saying a quick prayer for patience as I entered.

"Only by two minutes, sir. And here I thought it was fashionable for a woman to enter into a room late. I hear it's called making an entrance." I replied quietly with a shrug as he sighed, his shoulders drooping in that universal gesture that stated without words the proclamation, 'this is going to take some work.' I cringed at his movements.

"Punctuality should be your first lesson then, Ms. Bennet. Success is built on punctuality, on the fact that being tardy to any event is viewed as indifference." He lectured quickly as I bit my lower lip sheepishly, noting that he followed the gesture with his eyes. I was really having a hard time controlling my ire.

"Fine then, _you _wear the heels." I murmured as Darcy stalked over to me in irritation. He was piqued and deserved to be. After all, _I_ had been the one to ask him to teach me the importance of propriety. Therefore, I threw my hands into the air in surrender before he even made it over to me.

"Alright, my apologies! No need to lose our tempers. What's first Mr. Myagi?" I asked with a grin, giving my best impression of that 'wax on, wax off' movement used in the Karate Kid movie. Darcy didn't look impressed. And here I thought I would manage to lighten the mood. I'm guessing I have no future in stand-up comedy. Darcy threw something at me suddenly, and I scrambled to catch it quickly—staring down at the hardcover object with an expression that I'm sure those who could see me now would describe as 'horror.' A book? And not just any book, mind you.

"What's this?" I asked in dread as Darcy grinned. He was enjoying this entirely way too much for his own good. Who would have thought that I would have a reading list? And not just any reading list I tell you, but a book entitled '101 Ways to Become a Refined Lady.' This was just wonderful.

"That was a book my sister was required to read in school. I suggest you familiarize yourself with it as it contains information you seem determined to comprehend." He stated simply as I shrugged while shaking my head slowly. I couldn't help but wonder what bored aristocrat had taken the time to pen this detailed guide. It's not as if the author needed the money, right?

"Ranks right up there with Moby Dick or Crime and Punishment, I'm sure." I mumbled sarcastically as Darcy walked stealthily in my direction before stopping just inches away from my toes.

"Then call me Ishmael, Ms. Bennet, because the first thing this book is going to be used for is to teach you how to walk like a lady." Darcy informed me matter-of-factly while my mouth fell open in surprise. Walk?

"I think I'm okay in that area, Mr. Darcy. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I learned how to walk before I was two." I remarked slyly while he lifted the book out of my hands before tapping me gently against the nose as if he were trying to garner the attention of a misbehaving toddler. I just glared.

"No, Ms. Bennet. You learned how to stand on two feet and stumble across the room as a child. You didn't learn how to walk. For that, you need balance and poise. You have to learn to dominate a space, to make every head in a room turn toward you as you make your way from point A to point B." Darcy replied as he placed the book gently on top of my head. I crossed my eyes as I looked up at it uncertainly.

"Are you saying that I am not able to draw attention to myself?" I asked him wryly as he laughed softly, the phrase amusing him suddenly.

"With your tongue maybe, Ms. Bennet, but not with your poise." He remarked as I lifted my eyebrows up at him.

"I'm having a hard time deciding if I should be offended by that statement or not, Mr. Darcy." I countered reasonably before taking the first step across the room as he moved off to the side quietly. I made it two steps before the book came sliding off unceremoniously. Oops. Darcy didn't snicker. He just sighed.

"You're not in a hurry, Ms. Bennet. Move slower, make your steps smaller." He instructed as I picked the book up and balanced it once again on top of my head.

"So do boys have to do this nonsense in school, Mr. Darcy?" I asked him curiously as he snorted from behind me. I counted softly in my head as I walked….one, two, three, four, five….the book fell off again. Damn!

"Are you trying to get personal, Ms. Bennet?" Darcy asked me lightly as I shrugged before turning on my heels and placing the book on my head again.

"Would you answer me if I said yes, Mr. Darcy? And call me Lizzie for God's sake." I demanded as I started to glide across the room again, making it almost to the opposite wall without dropping the book. Yay! Darcy was quiet for a moment.

"No, we don't learn to walk in school as boys. We had to learn about leadership, the way to use our presence to dominate a room, _Ms. Bennet_." He answered me coolly as I rolled my eyes over at him quickly.

"That explains a lot." I muttered with finesse as I placed the book yet again on the crown of my head. I was really growing weary of walking with a book about refinement balanced idiotically on my person. Darcy watched me in silence before shrugging.

"And your schooling, Ms. Bennet? What was it like?" He asked me softly as I finally made it across the room without having the book fall to hit me on my toes. Spinning carefully around, I even managed the turn without it sliding off. Goody. I pulled the book off before handing it to him with a satisfied grin. Well, that hadn't taken me long. Obviously, I was already gliding across a room without difficulty.

"School was a matter of survival for me, Mr. Darcy. In my world, there are very few people who go to school to learn or to succeed. Most are just there because it's required and because their families are hoping it will instill something in their children other than idleness and indifference." I answered him honestly as he drew nearer to me suddenly. The room was instantly too small despite the vaulted ceilings and scores of space.

"No matter your standings in society, Ms. Bennet, school is always nothing more than a matter of survival. The rules of the game are just a little different." Darcy remarked as I watched him a moment in silence, letting his words sink into my brain as I peered up at him.

"And you, Mr. Darcy? Were you one of those idle students or one of those who strove for something better?" I asked almost in a whisper as he leaned closer. My breathing stopped.

"I strove for something more, always feeling the need to fight for more. That's my family curse. Being a Darcy requires you to be the best." He answered me just as quietly before pointing at the doorway. I assumed he wanted me to follow him and so I did—out into the hallway and down a corridor before we began to approach what appeared to be a ballroom. What?

"That's a sad way to live, Mr. Darcy. It takes the fulfillment out of success when you feel required to succeed rather than just doing it because you want to succeed." I stated simply as Darcy turned toward me then with a look that spoke volumes. He agreed with me although I knew he would never admit it. His pride wouldn't allow it. But there is this thing about pride. It can't always hide what your expression manages to reveal. Brushing aside the topic temporarily, I glanced around the room we were now in warily. Darcy waved his hand in a gesture that encompassed our entire surroundings.

"Could I have this dance, Ms. Bennet?" He asked me in a tone that you only hear in old period piece movies or read about in regency novels. He was kidding right?

"Is that a trick question, Mr. Darcy?"


	15. Chapter 15

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

Will watched in amusement at the way Lizzie stared at him in horror. Did she have a problem with dancing with him in general or did she have two left feet he was currently unaware of? He arched an eyebrow.

"To coin a phrase you utilized on me earlier, Ms. Bennet, I'm not asking to seduce you. I'm just asking you for a dance. Society is made up of dances. And, believe it or not, the way you dance also speaks a lot about the way you do business." Will remarked slowly as she looked up at him uncertainly, a stark vulnerability marking her gaze despite her attempts to shutter it. She was uncomfortable and he knew it.

"How so?" She asked softly as he smiled at her winsomely. The world of business was cutthroat. It was as dangerous as the streets he was sure she grew up in. It was time she became aware of that.

"Business is like a dance. Each move you make is choreographed, is planned out, is strategized. You can be moving left while your partner is moving right. If that is the case then your business will fail. But if you and your partner are moving in the same direction, if you learn the same steps as your competition then your business will succeed. It's not about right and wrong, it's about who dances the dance better. That is why the ballroom is also the place where some transactions can be created or some can be broken. We are as others perceive us, Ms. Bennet." Will explained evenly, watching as Elizabeth glanced around the room as if seeing it for the first time, his explanation sinking into her head as she gazed at the space. It seemed to make sense to her.

"Are you saying that the way you do the waltz can make or break a deal?" She asked incredulously as Will shrugged. It may seem ridiculous but it was true. That was the way the world worked in a society still ruled by old-fashioned stipulations. Old habits died hard.

"Precisely." He answered her quietly as her gaze came to rest on his slowly. She sighed.

"I don't know the waltz." She remarked matter-of-factly, causing him to laugh despite himself. She cringed as if insulted by his amusement and he took one of her hands in his before pointing down at her feet and placing her other hand where it needed to go.

"That's why you asked me to teach you propriety is it not, Ms. Bennet? There would no reason for me to teach you anything if you already knew the system." He remarked with a knowing grin, trying to put her at ease despite his own uncertainty at the situation they had allowed themselves to be put in. He didn't need to be touching her at all, didn't need to find himself at this proximity to her person.

"Without music, it's a little more difficult, but the steps are reasonably easy and can be counted out in your head. It'll make sense when there's music to follow." Darcy explained as he showed her the steps and tried to keep himself from smiling as she counted them out to herself underneath her breath as she moved. Stepping on his toe, she muttered a quick apology as he grimaced at the way her heel dug into his shoe.

"There's one advantage to being female, Ms. Bennet. You can allow the man to lead. Just follow me. Let the steps become instinctual. If you constantly have to count your way through a dance then you can't wager with your partner. For example, let's say you are dancing with a man you want to do business with. You need your wits about you to challenge his statements, to make deals with him, to counter his offers. You can't do that if you are counting." Darcy explained as Lizzie sighed before relaxing her stance. She seemed reluctant to give him any power over her but also seemed to realize the truth in his statement. She was beginning to see how the game was played on his turf. All in all, she was a fast learner and picked up the steps rather quickly, using his own strategy against him as she looked up at him suddenly.

"Why are you so determined to see me leave this branch of your company?" She asked quietly, surprising Will as she peered up at him inquisitively.

"Are you trying to bargain with me, Ms. Bennet?" He asked her wryly as she grinned up at him deviously.

"Just practicing what you are preaching." She remarked with an innocent shrug as he sighed. It was a legitimate question.

"It's not that I question your ability to do the job, Ms. Bennet. But this is a world you may never come to understand." He said in a low tone as she shook her head at him, each of them moving now easily across the dance floor as if they had always danced together. She frowned.

"Then you are questioning my worth over my ability. That's insulting, Mr. Darcy." She replied honestly. He didn't back down.

"I'm not defending myself, Ms. Bennet. Insulting or not, it's a fact that I cannot avoid in my position." He commented lightly, both of them moving faster in irritation without realizing it. Their anger was making them bold.

"You lie, Mr. Darcy. You _are_ avoiding it. The fact is, I know I am not culturally or socially acceptable. It makes it hard to succeed in a business when the upper crust cannot accept the success of the socially inept. Which of us is actually prejudice, Mr. Darcy? Take away your money and you are left with just a man. Money does not make you a god. We are all, in the end, fallible." Elizabeth stated simply as Will looked down at her with a creased brow. She didn't understand.

"My favorite color is green, Mr. Darcy. I am addicted to candy corn. I am afraid of spiders, I hate the way some people like to chew on ice, I love classic movies, and I tend to tap my foot against the floor when I am nervous or agitated. Point being, I am human. I have a face, a body, and a legitimate desire to become successful despite what position fate and birth handed me. Tell me, does the infallible Mr. Darcy have a favorite color? Do your socks have holes in them underneath those perfectly shined shoes? Should I wonder if you are as much a robot as you are a man?" Elizabeth asked as Darcy stopped suddenly, letting her move away from him as he shook his head at her statement. Both of them were breathing hard.

"You forget, Ms. Bennet, that the world is not a fair place. It doesn't care what your favorite color is. It does not matter how I view you personally. Fact is, birth _does_ matter, Ms. Bennet, no matter how much you or any of us detest the fact. Sometimes fate does come into play. That is the reason why I want to send you to another branch of the company. You have talent that I admire, a way with words that can take you places you can only dream about. But it, more than likely, will not happen here where birth does matter. Look around you. This is reality. And if you want me to be blunt, then it bites." Darcy replied sternly as Elizabeth shook her head angrily, glancing around the prestigious ballroom in agitation.

"This isn't reality, Mr. Darcy. It's a strange nightmare in the likeness to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland where the Queen of Hearts is shouting 'Off with her head!' You can dress it up how you want, but the fact remains that the only thing keeping others from succeeding here is the fear the elite make those, like myself, who try by pointing out our inferiority. What would you say if I told you that I wasn't afraid?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly as Darcy raised an eyebrow before leaning over suddenly to whisper in her ear.

"Then I'd tell you that my favorite color is blue, that I never have holes in my socks, that I fear only my own failure, that movies in general are rhetorical, and that I pray you can put on one hell of a show before the curtain falls on your delusions, Lizzie." Darcy replied stoically just as someone cleared their throat from the side of the room. Both of them looked up instantly to find Lady Catherine DeBourgh standing at the edge of the floor with her arms crossed across her chest authoritatively.

"I wonder, nephew, if I might have a moment of your time?" Darcy's aunt asked insistently as Darcy nodded before glancing back over at Elizabeth whose eyes were now wide with a mix between anger and surprise. What had just happened here? Were they angry at each other or…?

"I suppose the lessons are over?" Lizzie asked almost in a whisper as Darcy started to walk out of the room slowly behind his aunt. He shook his head.

"You suppose wrong, Ms. Bennet. If you are that determined to remain here, then they have just begun." He stated simply before continuing out of the room, hoping that they both could forget the slip he had made by calling her 'Lizzie.' The woman angered him to no end. He didn't need this complication. He looked up at his aunt's retreating back. It wasn't as if he didn't know what the old lady wanted. He was already berating himself for it. And yet as he walked, he found himself counting out the steps to the waltz.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Apologies on the lack in updating the past few days. I normally hate long pauses between chapters because I don't want anyone to forget the story is there. A family member of mine had to have surgery and was just released from the hospital yesterday. Now that I am back at home, I intend to keep the updating fairly regular once more. I hope that everyone is still interested and can't thank all of you who have reviewed enough! Thank you SO VERY MUCH! Great and wonderful wishes to all. Please R&R!

* * *

**

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

The ballroom behind Darcy haunted him now as he followed his aunt through the house towards a sitting room he had come to view as her 'study.' If Ann had ever been whipped a day in her sickly life, then Darcy was convinced that Auntie Catherine had done it here. He straightened up as Catherine DeBourgh turned toward him suddenly.

"Fraternization doesn't become you, nephew." Catherine remarked as she perused him with an expression that almost denoted disgust. Will cringed. The woman couldn't be that arrogant! Was that the way everyone viewed him as well? Belatedly, he realized that it probably was. Darcy shrugged.

"Fraternization, auntie?" He asked smoothly in a tone that brooked no argument. He had long ago outgrown her need to lecture anyone her junior, especially those she felt needed the little 'nagging' sessions. He had too much on his plate right now to try and swallow down whatever bitter medicine she had in store. She looked him over pointedly.

"Don't patronize me, Fitzwilliam!" She cried out as he lifted a brow at her sardonically. Fitzwilliam, huh? He knew what using his name meant and he braced himself for the onslaught. She stalked toward him and poked him decidedly in the chest before pacing back toward an antique desk.

"She's American and the daughter of two flagrant people who refuse to work for God's sake!" His aunt cried out as Darcy sighed. He might as well let her get it out of her system.

"Caroline talks too much." Darcy remarked before leaning back casually against the wall behind him near the door. It seemed impossible for the woman to insult him for something he hadn't even done. She made dancing seem like a crime, a vulgar act. Maybe, in their case, it had been.

"It was the waltz, auntie. I wasn't using your house for 'fraternization.'" Darcy pointed out as Catherine 'hrruummmphed' underneath her breath.

"Whatever that was or whatever it started out as, nephew, that was, by no means, the waltz! You cannot possibly be attracted to that sort of woman." She exclaimed as Darcy covered his mouth to keep from chuckling. That sort of woman? For some reason, he could envision Ms. Elizabeth Bennet cramming the fact that they no longer lived in the day of Hawthorne's Scarlett Letter down his aunt's throat. And that thought almost made him chuckle. It was an inappropriate thought at that. As for the waltz, well he had to admit that the steps of the dance and the dance itself had changed as they had argued. He seemed to be losing his sense of decorum. Maybe his aunt was right. He did need this talk after all in order to put things into perspective. What the hell was he doing? He nodded.

"I'm not attracted to her, auntie. I apologize if it seemed to be anything but a professional need to help someone out. You're right, I need to watch how I pursue my ambitions." Will admitted as he shifted into a position that denoted his intention to leave the room. He was done discussing this matter with his aunt. Catherine seemed reluctant to leave the conversation at that but one look at her nephew's face and she knew that continuing it was pointless. She waved him out the door, stopping him only a moment with her hand as she looked up at him arrogantly.

"Just remember who you are, nephew. Remember the people that depend on you. Remember your family." She whispered as Will looked down at the hand that now lay on his arm in a firm gesture that seemed to convey her fears. Darcy's eyes narrowed.

"Did what you walked in on in that ballroom really seem that inappropriate, auntie? Do you really feel such a need to conjure up familial obligation because of one woman?" He asked her suddenly with conviction as she peered up at him with a certainty that almost shocked him.

"You have no idea." She muttered as she brushed past him into the hallway. Darcy watched her go silently before walking over to the stairs. It was bad enough that he would be facing Wickham the next morning, the very man who had threatened his corporation, who had abused his father's generosity and hospitality. Enough was enough. And now, he had Elizabeth Bennet sleeping just down the hall from him and for some reason that disturbed him and his dreams. He didn't need these complications. Maybe it was time he considered taking a high society wife. Caroline was more than willing despite his reluctance to even think about her in that capacity. His ex-girlfriend was also in town and she would be going back to Britain by the end of the week as well. Stephanie. She was a perfect choice for a bride—demure, poised, and demanding when the need arose. She was also quite good in other areas as well. Why then could Darcy not get that blasted brown-headed hellion Ms. Bennet out of his head? Yes, it was definitely time he paid a visit to Stephanie.

Walking now past the bedroom inhabited by Ms. Bennet and Ms. Houston, he tapped on the door firmly.

"We leave for work first thing in the morning. Seven o' clock sharp. Do not be late!" He commanded at the closed wood before walking away. He stopped as Elizabeth's voice floated through the material, and he let himself smile slightly. He was pretty sure she had just referred to him as a 'big buffoon!.'


	17. Chapter 17

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

_**The Next Morning: Imperial Inc., The Italy Branch**_

The offices we walked into the next morning were in obvious chaos. People were scattered everywhere, boxes that should have already been unpacked and filed were strewn all over the place with lids open to reveal hastily flipped through files, and no one really seemed to know who they were supposed to report to. It was an utter mess. And, without a shadow of a doubt, it infuriated Fitzwilliam Darcy to no end. If he had been a lion, he would have roared. As it was, he came pretty close to it without being of the feline genus.

"What in heavens name happened here?" He yelled as the members of our little group placed our hands over our ears in preparation for the outpouring disgust that now emanated from the man in waves. This wasn't bad management. It almost seemed like sabotage. There was only one way to destroy a business this badly and that was to sit back and watch it happen. The people in the building froze at the sound of Darcy's voice, their eyes wide until Darcy turned toward me in expectation. I almost rolled my eyes before stepping up to stand next to him while pretending the man didn't intimidate me as well. I had three younger sisters. Oh yeah, I knew how to play pretend. I didn't even look at the man as I faced the people in the building. What was the point? I knew what he wanted.

"This is your boss Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. We need to know where your manager is." I said loudly in Italian as everyone started whispering and talking in fast repetition, as if startled that the 'man' himself would be standing here now. They all seemed embarrassed as well. I didn't blame them. Most of them were young and untrained. This 'mess' wasn't their fault. I was young too but had always had good management to work beneath. Someone finally pointed towards an office at the back of the room and informed me that it was where we would find the man in charge. I sighed before turning to Will and pointing to the back of the room as well. He didn't wait for me to say anything but started marching in that direction while filled with such animosity that I actually cringed. This couldn't be good.

"George Wickham!" He cried out with such anger that I felt cowered. I was suddenly interested to see who could inspire such rage in a man. And then the person in question came into view and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I even heard Jane gasp. He was the same height as Darcy, maybe a little shorter, and just as good looking. Both men could be models for Ralph Lauren. And Wickham was smiling.

"William!" He exclaimed in a friendly manner before holding his hand out as if expecting Darcy to shake it. Will only looked at the appendage with distaste.

"Cut the load of bull, George! What the hell are you doing managing my company? Who the hell hired you?" Mr. Darcy exclaimed as Jane and I gasped. Maybe the two of us didn't know the back story involving the two men, but even I felt Darcy was overstepping some kind of 'rude' boundary. I placed my hand gently on his arm but he only brushed it away. Wickham never quit smiling. He seemed most please with Darcy's anger. It made me narrow my eyes. My sabotage suspicion seemed awful plausible all of a sudden.

"Why, _you_ hired me, Mr. Darcy. Or don't you remember. Does the name George Westly ring a bell with you, mate? Oh well, I had my name changed a year ago. My mother's maiden name, you know." He answered in such a pleasant, conversational tone that it made me peer more closely at Wickham. Oh, he _was _good. He definitely knew what he was doing. What would promote him to do such a thing was beyond me, but I could tell he must have had it planned out for quite some time. Wickham looked at me then with such a charming smile that I would have blushed if I wasn't somewhat angry at the man for allowing the company to flounder. I was not impressed. Wickham raised one of his brows.

"You certainly surround yourself with beautiful people these days." Wickham complimented as he smiled charmingly at me before winking. I didn't smile back. Darcy's spine stiffened. Oh, no!

"Out NOW, Wickham, before I find a way to string you up by your neck!" Darcy exploded with a cynicism that made me blink. There really was bad blood between the two. The other man held his hands up in surrender before actually complying.

"I completed what I came here to do, Will. It will take you months and thousands of dollars to put this branch of Imperial back into business. I leave you to it." He announced as he walked by me quickly, stopping only long enough to smile at me and look back at Darcy.

"Say hello to your sister for me. I miss her attentions greatly." He stated quietly as Darcy literally exploded. I had never seen the man so non-plussed. I think he would have literally pummeled George Wickham if there had not been an audience interested in seeing how much professionalism Darcy could maintain. I was not as professional. I took the opportunity to stomp on Wickham's foot. The man howled before moving away, his pride hurt, I think, by the display. I just smiled. I may not know Darcy's sister, but I didn't appreciate the fact that the man would insult someone not present to defend herself.

"Good riddance." I mumbled as Will Darcy leaned over casually.

"That wasn't very professional, Ms. Bennet." He chided gently as I shrugged and rolled my eyes up at him in exasperation.

"There are times, Mr. Darcy, when you must screw professionalism." I uttered in irritation as Jane chuckled in agreement and Charles Bingley guffawed. Mr. Darcy just looked at me in derision, and I was angry that he would do that. I had just helped him for God's sake. I had done what he had wanted to do but couldn't. I peered at him in disbelief.

"You would chastise me for being rude to a man who was disrespectful to his superior?" I asked in astonishment as Darcy sighed before leaning toward me.

"Sometimes, Ms. Bennet, our biggest challenge is learning restraint when faced with adversity." Mr. Darcy instructed as I literally growled in agitation. I would have yelled at him if I hadn't decided to save face and practice a little of his restraint. He just peered down at me as he pointed out into the room.

"We have a lot to do people. Ms. Bennet, let these people know that we will have a training session every morning for the next week while I look for a replacement manager. We also need to clean up this mess." He commanded as I clenched my teeth together and turned toward the room. I was fuming as I felt Darcy's presence at my back and still I felt that draw toward the man. What, might I ask, is worse than finding yourself attracted to the man you want so much to loathe. Is it possible to hate the devil and still find yourself selling your soul?

* * *

**Author's Footnote: As many can see, I have never been a huge fan of Wickham and never could understand the attraction between himself and Elizabeth Bennet. I do, however, intend to throw in my own characters that, in my opinion, would fit in well with a modern P&P story but still keep to the basic storyline. One would include Lady Stephanie, for I could see the modern Mr. Darcy being as pragmatic as Austen's regency Darcy but a little more impulsive. And I always sort of wondered what would happen if Darcy had to choose between two women instead of Elizabeth choosing between two men. Don't hate me! I hope that all enjoy the twist. And, don't worry, it won't be long until Elizabeth's strange family is thrown back into the tale and a few more adventures are thrown into the mix. And I'm not done with Wickham. Every story needs a villain. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! I truly want your opinions! Please R&R!**


	18. Chapter 18

An hour after Wickham departed and I was still fuming. Damn the man! I had taken up for him, hadn't I? And damn my temper, but I couldn't let it go! I marched into what was 'his' office now, stomped really, and watched as he said something into the phone as I entered before hanging up and looking over at me with expectation. I hated that he seemed to expect me to come to him angry. But anger will do that to you, allow you to live up to an expectation you never meant to live up to. I took in a deep breath.

"What the hell was that out there earlier?" I asked him furiously as he pushed himself away from the desk with a resigned sigh.

"Have I given you the impression that by dancing with you last night and by helping you learn the ropes of what it means to be a part of a business's administration, that you can come in here now and question my authority?" Mr. Darcy asked in a low, menacing tone as he circled the desk toward me. I didn't cower. Another good thing about anger. It makes you brave.

"Not your authority, sir. Only your integrity as a human being and as a man." I answered haughtily as he approached me then. I'm not sure if he knew what he was going to do once he reached me, but I knew that he was determined to give me a lesson in intimidation. Out of all of the lessons I'm sure that he was planning on teaching me, I was not about to take pointers on that one. He towered over me. I just shrugged.

"Do you expect me to bow, curtsy maybe? Because honestly the only thing I feel like doing right now is stomping on your toe. And, as you have seen from earlier performances, I am very capable of doing just that." I seethed as he shook his head slowly. Something seemed to click in his head.

"I never meant to hurt your pride, Ms. Bennet." He said softly as I gazed up at him in sudden silence. My pride? Had he hurt my pride? Well damn. I guess he had. And it smarted. He had used my instant dislike against Wickham to teach me a lesson in propriety, and it had stung. Helping me out in the privacy of his aunt's house or in an isolated location was okay but to do so in public made me look inept. I was not inept!

"Didn't you?" I asked in a whisper now, afraid that if I spoke louder that the tears that were threatening the back of my eyes would fall. And I was not allowing Darcy the satisfaction of seeing me weak. I was not weak! He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I cringed before pushing it off. My anger was growing.

"You don't get it, do you?" I asked him while shaking my head in consternation. He just creased his brows together in a fashion similar to the way all men do when they're wondering if it's that time of the month. I was not PMSing. I was just angry and hurt. He started to speak, but I shook my head again.

"You _really_ don't get it. Maybe it is about my pride. You of all people would know that, wouldn't you? You put pride above all else. Do you not realize how you've made me appear to other people? I thought business was about respect. I get that I wasn't born to the right people, that I didn't receive the perfect education, that I never attended a finishing school for women. I even get that I'm young and naïve and that the world is harsh and impolite. But what I don't get is why you feel the need to be the one to show me that, Mr. Darcy. Why you feel the need to throw my ineptness in my face every time that I take a step wrong. Do rich people not trip? Do the elite not make mistakes? You tell me my biggest problem is prejudice. I wonder if you realize, sir, that _you_ are the reason why." I retorted as he stood there silently, his face a vision as it processed his emotions. Maybe I had surprised him. But then again…

"Am I interrupting something?" A female voice asked suddenly from behind me, and I turned quickly to find myself staring at an illusion. It had to be because no one looked like that unless they were on the cover of Vogue and had the help of professional air brush artists. Dear me. Her perfect blonde coiffure and straight-laced business suit made my dusty attire appear wanting. But, then again, she hadn't been digging through files and cobweb covered cabinets. I couldn't even react. But Darcy did.

"Stephanie." He said quickly, almost with a touch of relief as if she had saved him from himself or from me one. I couldn't be sure which. I glanced between the two warily, uncertain if I should leave the office now or wait until he dismissed me. Darcy apparently sensed my discomfort because he turned toward me with a tight smile.

"Ms. Bennet, this is a close friend of mine, Lady Stephanie Edgemont. Stephanie, this is Elizabeth Bennet, my translator here at the company." Darcy introduced as I nodded my head respectfully in her direction. She did the same, but her smile was wary, as if unsure it was appropriate for her to nod at me. I didn't look that bad, did I? I waved my hand toward the door.

"I should get back to work." I remarked plaintively as Darcy nodded and guided Stephanie out of my way by the elbow so that I could pass by. Her presence daunted me although I'm not sure why. It's not as if I had any designs on the detestable Mr. Darcy. He was too….ughhhhhh! I could hear Stephanie as she leaned in close to Darcy, and I tried to close out her voice as I moved. My pride was stinging again.

"You could have contacted me here in Italy, William. I do speak Italian." She said with a slight hint of disdain as I closed my eyes briefly at the statement. I was beginning to wonder why I was here anymore. Did the company really need me that much? I thought about all of the articles I had written over the years in hopes that every time I handed one to my boss back in America that he would be impressed enough to make me a reporter or a media mogul. Anything but the editing position that allowed me only to critique someone else's work. I made a decision right then and there. I would let Mr. Darcy continue to teach me etiquette while we were here in Italy and then I would make him pay attention to my work. I deserved that much from him. I truly did. Lady Stephanie laughed from behind me, and I wondered distantly why it made my heart clench.

* * *

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

"I feel almost like an intruder." Lady Stephanie said laughingly as she looked out the door at Elizabeth Bennet's retreating back. Darcy just shrugged as he did the same. Lizzie's comments still stung, only because she was right. He had chastised her for being prejudice, for not allowing herself the opportunity to prove herself by immediately disliking the rich and then he went ahead and took the opportunity out of her hands by doing exactly what she detested most in the elite--by giving her lessons in front of those she was trying to impress. He was one hell of a man! But maybe it was best she learn how cruel the world was now. He was not her friend, he sure as hell was not her lover, and he was not, by all means, a relation to her. Therefore, it was his job to maintain a distance between the two.

"I _didn't_ interrupt anything, did I?" Stephanie asked plaintively as Darcy realized belatedly that she had been talking and he hadn't been listening. He shook the cobwebs out of his head as he grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door before holding his hand out to her. He smiled.

"No, you didn't interrupt anything. It was just business. Now, let's go to that café we were talking about earlier on the phone." He commented suavely as Stephanie smiled winsomely before placing her hand in his. The jolt of electricity that her touch used to create never came as he wrapped his fingers around hers, but he didn't have time to study that effect at the moment. It didn't matter really. Marriages worked best when there was no emotion between the man and his wife anyhow. His parents had seemed to be the perfect couple and their marriage had practically been arranged. And, there was quite the age difference between himself and Ms. Bennet. Quite the age difference. Now, why had _that_ thought entered his head? He looked down at Stephanie as his father's words rang through his head.

"Choosing a wife should be done similar to the way you make a business decision. Getting married, after all, is nothing but a business transaction. If done well, you profit. If done poorly, you could lose everything." His father had once said and Darcy tried embracing that statement even now. One glance over his shoulder at the enigmatic Ms. Bennet, and he felt a stirring that he ignored quickly. She was an employee that he hadn't even known long, she was just four years out of her teens, and she was a ball of emotions ready to ignite. She was also making him re-think himself. Stephanie was quiet from beside him only a moment. She had always diliked being ignored.

"It's been a long time, Darcy. You and I always seemed to work well together. I have been anticipating your call." She said sweetly as Darcy smiled while holding open the building door for her.

"We have a lot to make up for." He said in a low tone as he let the door close on the scene inside the building, on the face of Elizabeth Bennet as she climbed on top of a box to help fix the branch of the business Wickham had tried to destroy. He couldn't get the image of her stomping on Wickham's toe out of his head. He smiled down at Stephanie.

"You still enjoy the arts, do you not?" Darcy asked as she nodded politely. He shrugged.

"I have tickets to an exclusive art exhibit in town. I was planning on taking the guests residing presently at my aunt's estate, but I would also like it if you would attend with me as well." Darcy commented as she smiled up at him eagerly.

"I would love to!" She exclaimed as he grinned at her.

"Tomorrow night then? And, of course, you must join us all for dinner tonight. We'll be dining at the Camponeschi." Darcy remarked as Stephanie nodded again. It was an exclusive establishment that he had managed to get reservations for.

"I've missed us." Stephanie said suddenly as they walked down the avenue toward an awaiting car. She sighed as she took his arm suddenly, and he closed his eyes briefly. They had always made a good pair. But now, he couldn't help but wonder if she had missed his company or his money. And it was all Elizabeth Bennet's fault!


	19. Chapter 19

**_Elizabeth Bennet..._**

"Should I ask why the long face?" Jane asked from behind me as I shoved the final empty box into the corner. I had called a company to come haul all of the boxes off the following day and they had promised me a nine o'clock pick up. Quite a few hours had passed since my blow out with Darcy, and I had used my frustration to attack the building with vigor—using my own muscle strength and my Italian to clean up and to contact contractors and etc. to help haul off or finish what we couldn't complete. With Darcy's lack of knowledge in the tongue, I was practically running the place at the moment and he wasn't there to see. No, he was enjoying a nice lunch out with his…whatever she was. Of course, if I was being fair then I would also point out that he had used the rest of the afternoon meeting with businessmen to repair any publicity damage done by Wickham. I, on the other hand, was determined to get as much done here as possible before Darcy decided to use his 'close' friend to call the shots. She did, after all, speak Italian. Was I throwing a tantrum? Ewwww! That's not like me! I looked at Jane.

"I'm fine. Just tired." I replied quietly as she looked around the office with a look that denoted how impressed she was. She grinned.

"Have you ever thought about being an executive? Lord knows, you've gotten more done today than most of us could in a week." She commented sagely as she looked at the list of names and invoices I had drawn out to keep up with the calls, the names of people, and the prices it would take to get everything done. Wickham was wrong. If I had my way, the company would lose very little money and after talking to as many business clienteles as possible today, I had also managed to salvage my pride by learning more about the business here than anyone else knew presently, even dear ol' Darcy. The man was under my skin now. I had to accept that fact since his presence there was poking me as badly as a burr picked up while walking in the woods. I sighed before looking at Jane.

"There's a difference between being an executive and being productive." I remarked absently as she raised a brow. I knew she could feel my irritation, even if most of it had dissipated by now.

"And what's that?" She asked me curiously as I rubbed my hands down the sides of my dress pants. Dust streaks were left to taint the black fabric, but I ignored it. Who could afford dry cleaning anyway?

"Executives spend too much time kissing everyone else's ass to be productive. Employees, on the other hand, learn to kiss ass, save face, and still manage to get the job done." I stated jokingly in a brusque manner that I would have once used in the streets of the city back home. It wasn't appropriate talk, but I knew Jane would find it incredibly amusing. I crossed myself for the use of bad language. I must have crossed myself too late because God decided to punish me.

"Is that so, Ms. Bennet?" A voice asked suddenly from behind me, and I froze as my eyes met Jane's.

"He's behind me, isn't he?" I asked almost in a whisper as she nodded sheepishly. I just swore again.

"Dammit!" I proclaimed as Jane threw me a shocked look.

"Lizzie!" She exclaimed as I turned toward Darcy slowly. It was then that I realized Jane still wasn't aware of the tension between Darcy and I or she would have understood my need to swear. I was no longer trying to impress the man. He was eyeing me with a look that I was having a hard time deciphering. Was that disdain or exhaustion on his face? If he said he was tired just then, I was going to kick him. We all were.

"It was just a joke." Jane muttered helpfully from behind me as I raised a brow up at Darcy's pointed face. He knew me better than that. Seems strange that I knew he knew that of me. He just shook his head when I didn't reply to his question.

"We're dining out tonight. It's a formal affair so I am releasing you both so that you may take the car back to my aunt's estate and change. Appropriate attire has already been sent ahead." He stated evenly as Jane practically shrieked in excitement once she learned we were going to the Camponeschi. I almost groaned but contained myself. Instead, I waited until Jane walked by Darcy first before whispering,

"You can dress someone for the part, but you can't make them fit the role." I uttered as I let myself move past him. His hand shot out to grab me by the arm, and I froze simply because I was surprised by the contact. At first, I expected him to argue with me but he just sighed before glancing around the room.

"You have done an exceptional job today, Ms. Bennet. I am duly impressed." He commented as I moved away from him in astonishment, his hand still residing on my arm as I did. I almost gaped until he spoiled the moment.

"As for kissing asses, Ms. Bennet, I fear you forget that in order to have employees, you must first have executives." He whispered back haughtily as I narrowed my eyes at his face. I needed a pie right about now so that I could imitate slapstick comedy and slam it in his face! Instead, I grinned.

"I'm sure you find it rather easy to portray a businessman, Mr. Darcy. Being bland, rather cruel and incompetent seems to come easily for you." I replied stoically as Darcy gripped my arm tighter without realizing it.

"Quoting John Cleese, Ms. Bennet?" He asked me simply as I shrugged, brushing his hand off of me as I did.

"He sure seemed to nail men like you right on the head." I remarked before turning around and marching out the door. I had a dinner to get ready for.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

The woman could be downright infuriating! That's all there was to it! She could make him fume with no more than a simple comment. Most men would have fired her by now for her lack of decorum and her disrespect, but he couldn't seem to let her go. Something about her manner intrigued him, made him go back for more despite this incessant need to pummel her as well. Where did they grow women like her? For that matter, what did they feed women like her? He shook his head as he made his way toward the car so that he could drive himself to the restaurant. He had worked late and thus planned to meet everyone there. He looked at his watch.

"I hear you invited Stephanie Edgemont to dine with us tonight?" Charles asked suddenly from behind him, startling him as his pale face appeared next to Darcy at the car. Charles shrugged before placing his hands inside the pockets of his dress pants. The movement made him appear younger than his twenty-nine years.

"I figured I'd ride over with you. We've haven't talked much lately." Charles remarked simply before shrugging again. Darcy just nodded before unlocking the car and climbing in, waiting until Charles scooted into the passenger seat before turning the key in the ignition. Charles peered at him in the dark.

"So, Stephanie Edgemont, huh?" Charles asked again as Darcy sighed. The gossip mill was turning. It was an inevitable thing, especially with Stephanie involved. It seemed funny to him that he had spent an hour or so alone dancing with Elizabeth Bennet and only a few people seemed to realize the spark between them while he had consumed one meal with Stephanie and the entire company knew. Darcy shook his head as he drove.

"Seems an impulsive decision bringing her back into my life, I know. But, I felt like I needed that right now." Darcy replied as Charles sat perfectly still on his side of the car. When he did speak, it was strained.

"Do you even have feelings for her, Will?" Charles asked as Darcy tried very hard not to roll his eyes. For a man, Charles was a very romantic sort of person.

"Sometimes relationships aren't about having feelings, Charles. Those types of feelings get in the way. Sometimes it's about what is the most important decision for your lifestyle and for your family." Darcy answered helpfully as Charles coughed.

"Seems like such a cold way to look at a relationship, isn't it, mate?" Bingley asked yet again as Darcy sighed. This wasn't about Darcy. Will should be glad that it wasn't about him, that Bingley hadn't become aware of the strain between Lizzie and himself, but he couldn't help but feel strange about this conversation as well.

"This is about Jane, isn't it?" Darcy asked, daring to look at the other man from the corner of his eye as he drove. They were nearing the restaurant now. It was only a few blocks away. Bingley tried to school his features in order to deny it, but he failed.

"It's that obvious?" Charles asked as Darcy nodded. He really couldn't fault the man. Darcy had his own problems, but unlike Charles, he was fighting his own impulses. Charles never fought emotion for practicality.

"And you think I'm wrong to even consider it." Charles stated simply. He didn't ask Darcy. He just stated it because he knew how Darcy thought. Will shrugged.

"It's not practical, Charles. She may have money and prestige, but she's been involved in enough scandal and public ridicule that she will do nothing but taint your name." Darcy commented as Charles let out a long breath.

"Maybe I don't care about those things." Charles remarked off-handedly as Darcy laughed. Yes, laughed.

"Don't kid yourself, Charles. At heart, you are as practical as I am. One word would be uttered about her or you'd find yourself embarrassed by her impromptu nature, and eventually the two of you would end up divorced. Is that what you want, Charles? A broken heart and a broken marriage?" Darcy asked carefully as Charles turned toward him in the dark.

"You really are cynical, aren't you, Darcy?" Charles asked in return as he looked out the car window at the now looming restaurant. Darcy tried not to be offended by that statement but failed.

"Maybe I am." Darcy admitted sullenly as Charles sighed.

"And yet, you're probably right." Charles admitted to the evening air as they both finally exited the car. Darcy looked at his watch. The women would already be here. His aunt would be angry that they were late. All in all, Darcy couldn't decide if the thought of being here sobered him or caused his pulse to race.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Elizabeth Bennet…_**

I tried not to puff up in indignation as Darcy approached the table. Really I did. But I am pretty sure that I failed miserably. At least, no one could accuse me of liking the man. Hell, it seemed like I couldn't get far enough away from him and yet life had this nasty little habit of dishing me out a nice heaping plate full of 'fate.' This night, fate included placing the man directly across from me. Lady Catherine DeBourgh was shaking her head as Charles and Will took their seats.

"You could try for punctuality, nephew." The woman chastised severely as Charles ducked his head and Darcy met her gaze head-on. Something told me the two of them had come to some sort of impasse in their lives. If Darcy had once been intimidated by the old hag, he wasn't anymore. Finally, he nodded at her.

"My sincerest apologies to you, mam. To all of you ladies." He said quickly before smiling over at Lady Stephanie. Catherine Debourgh grinned as she witnessed the interaction between the two before turning toward the waiter and requesting that he bring us a menu and a wine selection list. I was still dazed by the setting, if not the pure luxuriousness of the place. Darcy's first lesson should have been table etiquette because I was having one hell of a time trying to figure out if I worked my way in or out from where the silverware began. Or was it from where it ended? Oh hell! Maybe Jane knew. Then again, maybe the little scene Lady Stephanie had walked in on at the office earlier had raised her radar because Darcy's 'potential' mate, as Lady DeBourgh had introduced her earlier, managed to find amusement in my obvious predicament. And wouldn't you know? She pointed it out to everyone else.

"It's just silverware, Ms. Bennet. It doesn't bite. It's quite simple really." Stephanie explained loudly while Lady Hurst and Caroline Bingley exchanged knowing glances and I tried my damndest not to blush. That's a hard thing to accomplish when the entire table and the one next to us suddenly seemed aware of the fact that I had no clue which fork to eat with. It made me want to pound my chest like the ancient Neanderthals while eating with my hands and picking my teeth with my fingernails before moaning, 'ugga ugga.' I schooled my features and shrugged off the comment.

"Where I come from, we spend too much time concentrating on the food instead of which utensil we are supposed to use to eat it." I remarked lightly as Jane chuckled before covering her mouth with her hand. No one else made a sound. Okay, so I didn't have a future in stand up comedy. I could have told anyone that. But even I smiled at an unfunny joke out of civility at the water fountain at work. Obviously, these people were harsher critics. I lowered my head in order to place the table napkin handed to me earlier across my lap. I think I was hoping that by ducking, people would get the hint that I had no desire to be included in the conversation. No such luck.

"I hear you're proficient in literature—quoting it and writing it." Stephanie began again as a waiter approached with a pot of steaming coffee. I sighed as I stared at it. I could _so_ use a cup in order to fortify myself for the dinner ahead, but the expectant look on Lady Stephanie's face assured me that she wasn't one to be kept waiting. I sighed again.

"I guess that _is _sort of my thing. And you, Lady Stephanie? What do you do?" I asked politely as the coffee guy passed by us again. Jesus! Could someone just grab me a cup! Lady Stephanie smiled winsomely.

"I'm a lawyer." She remarked quietly as I lifted an eyebrow as if interested in her answer. Truthfully, I had already guessed that she was more than likely either a lawyer or a doctor just from the way she carried herself in that self-assured manner which denoted she enjoyed holding your life in her hands. I nodded as if impressed by the revelation as the waiter started to pass by again. I would have said something this time if Darcy hadn't suddenly stopped him.

"One coffee please with a side of cream and sugar." He ordered politely, taking a cup handed to him before passing it over to me. My jaw would have dropped if the table hadn't have been buzzing with conversation, keeping all, save a few, from noticing his gesture. My gaze met with his as I accepted the cup, trying not to wince as my fingers brushed his when I did. His reaction was the same because I barely had a hold on it before he suddenly let go. Lady Stephanie watched quietly.

"I read somewhere once that being a coffee lover was proof that you are an introverted personality." She pointed out evenly, as if the article she had read would have some point of interest to us all. Personally, I didn't care what kind of personality it meant I had as long as I could enjoy its warmth and let it soothe away my stress. Darcy, however, laughed. It seemed he was trying not to because he coughed to cover up his slip in amusement, but the way Catherine and Stephanie looked at him now, it was obvious that Stephanie's statement was not meant to be amusing. Darcy coughed again. I just raised an interested brow.

"Did I say something with that much entertainment value?" Stephanie asked as Darcy tried desperately to recover. Considering the fact that I knew what he had laughed at—at the idea that I was introverted—I was beginning to feel a little insulted. Darcy shook his head.

"I'm just trying to figure out what specialist came up with that theory. Ms. Bennet is proof enough that drinking coffee does not denote your personality." Mr. Darcy remarked as I gave him my famous 'watch it buster' glare. Stephanie shrugged.

"And here I also heard that the habit denoted someone keen in the world of business and society." Stephanie retorted once more with a sly twinkle in her eye as Darcy snickered yet again. Okay, now I was insulted. I _was_ a keen business woman when allowed the chance. I glared at him as he took a sip of expensive wine.

"Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength." I muttered as he stopped laughing long enough to turn that intense gaze of his in full force upon my person. I didn't let it intimidate me. I had been insulted enough tonight as it was. He seemed to ponder my words a moment before leaning forward.

"An Eric Hoffer quote? I am continually impressed by your ability to quote everyone but yourself, Ms. Bennet." He ground out as I blinked slowly. The two of us were like a pair of wild animals circling each other in an episode filmed by National Geographic. All we needed to do now was paw the ground and snort dirt and you'd realize we were in all out war. I scoffed.

"It has been my experience, sir, that the best learned qualities and ideas come from learning from those who have already said or done something worth having repeated." I argued as Darcy leaned forward slightly. I saw the slight discomfort that flitted across Stephanie's face, and I wondered if she was aware of the delicate amount of control that Darcy and I had both leashed our tempers with that evening. We were both angry at each other as it was and Stephanie had stoked the fire. Not so smart, that. His eyes narrowed as I leaned closer to him as well.

"Businessmen, of all people, should be the most versed in quotations." I pointed out as Darcy's shoulders grew rigid with the tenseness that now filled them.

"And you don't believe that I can quote most of the world's famous philosophers and writers, Ms. Bennet? I run my business on those famous ideals. You, however, lack direction and mannerism" He stated evenly as I laughed. Yes, laughed. The gall of him! By this time, most of the table had grown quiet, and I could vaguely hear Jane hiss warningly, "Lizzie!" I ignored her. I think she was afraid that I'd get fired. Well, let the man do his worst! We were arguing about quotations for God's sake! And, by the way, I'm sure both of our eyes were shining with a fire that no one else seemed to notice. You'd think that we had both been waiting for this moment, both been looking forward to picking a fight with each other. So, I challenged him. He knew quotes did he? I took my napkin off of my lap and threw it on the table before leaning forward more in my chair.

"The argument from intimidation is a confession of intellectual impotence." I quoted callously as he laid his napkin next to his own plate a little more formally than I had my own. His voice lowered dangerously.

"Ayn Rand's the Virtue of Selfishness? Somehow I take that as a direct cut, Ms. Bennet. One should point out that Friedrich Nietzsche once said that 'the most perfidious way of harming a cause consists of defending it deliberately with faulty arguments.'" Darcy argued as I puffed up with indignation. A cut indeed? What did he think he had been doing towards me? It sure as hell didn't consist of flowers and gentlemanly behavior. Oh, he thought he could out quote me did he? I stood up slightly before quoting William Lloyd Garrison.

"With reasonable men I will reason; with humane men I will plea; but to tyrants I will give no quarter, nor waste arguments where they will certainly be lost." I stated steadfastly as I watched Darcy's eyes grow colder, filled with an icy fire that made me want to shiver. I could tell he recognized the quote and so he didn't bother to ask who had said it. Instead, he stood up slightly as well.

"Are you insulting my character, Ms. Bennet? You, who has no sense of propriety whatsoever?" He asked me in a piqued tone as I bristled. Catherine was lightly tapping Darcy on the arm by now and the Bingley sisters and Lady Stephanie were sliding down in their seats. I continued to ignore them all.

"And why wouldn't I, Mr. Darcy? You seem determined to change my character, to mold me into something that would change who I am as an individual. Consider what Cicero once said, 'Everyone has the obligation to ponder well his own specific traits of character. He must also regulate them adequately and not wonder whether someone else's traits might suit him better. The more definitely his own a man's character is, the better it fits him.'" I remarked evenly as Darcy stood there a moment in silence. We were both standing now, and I blushed as I realized we were garnering quite an audience. Darcy, however, didn't seem to notice yet. He shook his head at me.

"Then consider Confucious, Ms. Bennet. He once said that 'without an acquaintance with the rules of propriety, it is impossible for the character to be established.'" Mr. Darcy pointed out as I narrowed my eyes before crossing my arms over my chest.

"That's a very narrow-minded view, even for Confucious." I reiterated as Darcy raised an ironic brow.

"You should see us in business meetings, Ms. Bennet. Business _is_ a narrow-minded corporation." Mr. Darcy stated gruffly as I glanced around the room sheepishly once more. I think it was then that Darcy also realized we had an audience because he began to back down a bit. I wasn't about to let him do that. As a matter of fact, it was time to make my exit. The best thing about any performance is the finale. I smiled sweetly at him as I quoted Douglas Coupland.

"Here's my theory about meetings and life; the three things you can't fake are erections, competence and creativity. That's why meetings become toxic. They put uncreative people in a situation in which they have to be something they can never be. And the more effort they put into concealing their inabilities, the more toxic the meeting becomes. One of the most common creativity-faking tactics is when someone puts their hands in prayer position and conceals their mouth while they nod at you and say, 'Mmmmmm. Interesting.' If pressed, they'll add, 'I'll have to get back to you on that.' Then they don't say anything else." I quoted haughtily before turning on my heels and marching out of the restaurant. Eat that, Mr. Darcy. It's a bitter pill to swallow, isn't it? I was almost out the door when I made the mistake of looking behind me and realized that he was following. Oh, that's just great! I was already losing weight on this trip. For some reason, I never could seem to make it through a meal.

* * *

**Author's Footnote: Thank you to all of those who are reviewing. You have made this such an enjoyable story to write and also, thank you to all of those who have helped me out some as well by pointing out anything they noticed out of place or just opinions in general about the story. I love hearing all of your thoughts. I genuinely hope that you keep reading and reviewing. The reviews are so very encouraging and definitely gives me that push to write more. Wonderful wishes to you all!---licensetowrite**


	22. Chapter 22

There was a Farnese fountain outside the restaurant and that's where I paused only because I knew it was pointless to run. I worked for the man…well, at least for now. I didn't turn around as he approached, just stared down into the water until I noted the appearance of his face through the shimmering surface. It seemed better somehow to watch his expression that way rather than to actually face him when my wrath was still so fresh. I shook my head at his reflection.

"You might as well fire me now, Mr. Darcy. My behavior may have been deplorable, but I will not apologize." I stated with steadfast conviction as I watched him shake his head at me in the water. I was gearing up for another argument. Why not, right? I had come to expect that sort of thing from him. Instead he sighed and held up his hands a moment as if deciding whether or not it was a smart idea to touch me. And then he just dropped his hands to his sides.

"There is no reason for you to apologize, Ms. Bennet, when the episode was entirely my own fault. I have only myself to blame." He commented with certainty as I tried my best to keep from gaping. And then I lost the battle because the next thing I knew my mouth was hanging open. I couldn't help it. I goaded him.

"Did you just apologize to me, Mr. Darcy? I mean, was that some sort of reconciliation?" I asked him in surprise as he tried his best not to roll his eyes at me in the water where I still watched him.

"In a sense, Ms. Bennet. I promised to teach you the foundation of propriety and then I renege on that agreement by goading you into mundane arguments. How can I blame you when you aren't acquainted with the rules of society?" He said before pausing a moment.

"Can you face me please?" He asked me in a surly tone as I let my eyes widen considerably. It was then that I realized how young my reflection made me appear. I spun to face him both angrily and cautiously.

"How do you manage to make an apology sound the same as an insult?" I asked him incredulously as I looked back at the water. He seemed surprised by my vehemence as if his apology was supposed to mean something more to me. I looked up and swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in my throat. I was battling a wonderful case of anger and depression and they were both eating me alive. Darcy coughed.

"This won't change the fact that I still intend to show you the meaning of propriety and how to utilize it." He said quietly as I allowed myself a small glance in his general direction.

"I'm still waiting for you to fire me." I remarked plainly as he actually laughed before pointing back at the restaurant.

"And leave myself open to the bitter disdain left in that establishment? I don't think so. I have already been banned from eating." He uttered as I shrugged.

"Welcome to my world." I said sourly as he moved a little closer to me. I wanted to back away but somehow managed to hold my ground.

"I'm trying not to be incensed by both of our actions, Elizabeth." He remarked softy as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I hadn't missed the fact that he had just used my name and in a voice that made me envision nefarious things despite the fact that I had no experience in that department. I backed away slightly.

"You seem out of sorts, Ms Bennet." He mentioned in an even lower tone and at a distance close enough now that I could feel the faint stirring of his breath as it fanned the back of my neck. I turned to face him too quickly and realized our faces were only inches apart. My pulse sped up. He was such a tall man, and I had to strain to look up at him.

"You keep asking me why I seem so prejudice, Mr. Darcy. I wonder if you realize that you keep pushing me towards those feelings." I murmured resolutely as I fought to keep my gaze from lingering on the sight of his lips. His chest heaved each time he took in a breath.

"Have you ever wondered, Ms. Bennet, if the reason why I keep pushing you towards those general ideas is, in a way, a form of protection for myself?" He asked me curiously as I finally let my eyes meet his. I think he would have actually kissed me then if someone had not cleared their throat from behind me. I cringed mostly because I had silently hoped he would have followed through with the action. Silly me.

"That was an interesting show in the restaurant back there." Lady Stephanie's voice proclaimed breathlessly and I pulled away from Darcy as if I had been burned. Darcy looked as shocked as I did. I think his potential significant other had just saved us both from ourselves. Darcy coughed. You'd think the man was getting a cold if you hadn't figured out that he tended to do that when he was trying to collect his thoughts. Strange how I realized that about him.

"I suppose Ms. Bennet and I did lose our sensibilities." Darcy commented as I raised my brows up at him sardonically. Let him speak for himself.

"I have all my senses about me, sir." I reiterated as he threw me a look that said, 'just play along.' I grinned at him wickedly. I had never been good at games. He narrowed his eyes.

"It's those awful table manners sported by Ms. Bennet. I have promised to work with her on that." He said lightly as I scoffed. Well, I never! The slight smile he was trying to keep off his face revealed to me that he knew he had gotten under my skin. I looked over my shoulder and grinned.

"Yes, when did you expect to work with me on that, Mr. Darcy?" I asked him politely as he shrugged before lowering his voice.

"Whenever it's convenient for you." He replied as I cocked my head to the side.

"I suppose it's a good thing that I haven't learned a thing about propriety yet." I remarked off-handedly as Darcy allowed himself the curiosity I had come to expect from him.

"And why's that, Ms. Bennet?" He asked me in a serious tone as I looked at him a moment before leaning over and shoving him into the water fountain. Lady Stephanie gasped as he came sputtering up to the top of the surface, an angry scowl highlighting his damp features.

"Because that way, I can blame those actions on my current lack of decorum." I answered quickly before rubbing my hands together and walking away. I didn't even look back, although I did hear Lady Stephanie ask Darcy what had gotten into him. Seems that she considered our little tête-à-tête a flirting session. Imagine that.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's Note: I am so glad that you guys are interested in my story. I wasn't sure how it would go over at first, but I am very glad that it has gone over well. I am certainly enjoying writing it. Thank you all so very much for taking the time and effort to read and review. It truly means a lot to me! Hugs to all.--licensetowrite

* * *

**_

Fitzwilliam Darcy…

Water has two definite ingredients, when used properly, aside from its usual formula of H2O and that consists of a mix between consciousness and humility. Consciousness because the main obvious point of pushing someone into a cold, slimy moss filled fountain is to wake them up a little, shake a little realization into the soul. And, humility because, come on folks, you can't come sputtering up to the top of a public fountain spitting nasty water without finding yourself a little humbled by the entire situation. Or at least that's how Will felt as he lifted himself out of the decorative cascade to find Lady Stephanie standing there with her arms folded casually across her chest. Somehow Will was beginning to think it was time to put pretense behind him and begin looking at the big picture here. Stephanie tapped her foot against the pavement.

"What was that?" She asked reasonably as Darcy stood up cautiously, being careful not to slip as he tried wringing water out of his expensive clothes. A few passersby walked through the square and covered their mouths as they tried to suppress their giggles. Darcy swore before looking up at his date.

"What was what? The whole dunking booth escapade? Because I would think that would be pretty obvious right about now." Darcy exploded as Stephanie shook her head. He was promoting the idea that anger had been the underlying cause for this…whatever it was. But he was only fooling himself.

"There was more to it than that, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and you know it. You've changed lately. It's almost as if you are a completely different human being. It's altogether disconcerting." Stephanie complained as Darcy looked up at her in irritation. He couldn't be angry with her because he knew that she was right—knew that he _had_ changed, had almost completely transformed in the two or so weeks since Elizabeth Bennet's arrival into his completely organized and problem-free life. He shook his head as Lady Stephanie shifted restlessly on the balls of her feet.

"You really don't have that much to say about it, do you, Darcy? Do you have feelings for that woman, Will? And be honest with me. It's not as if she is completely unattractive even if she does seem to be a bad influence on you." Stephanie pointed out as Will finally looked her straight into the eye. For some reason, he bristled at the 'bad influence' comment as if he didn't like the idea of Elizabeth Bennet being insulted in front of him. That thought made him shiver. Or maybe it was just the chill of the air against his damp skin. Another group of people walked by their interlude and Darcy heard one of the females whistle. Lord knows, he didn't know whether to be encouraged by the reaction to his physique or disgusted by it. Lady Stephanie tapped her foot again impatiently and Darcy sighed. Truth was, he couldn't answer her because he wasn't sure how. Stephanie's posture changed when she realized she wasn't going to get a response. She leaned forward almost accusingly.

"You don't fight with her because you disagree with her manner or her lack of propriety, do you? No, you fight with her because you find yourself wanting to be that way as well, don't you? Jesus, Will!" Stephanie exclaimed as Darcy pulled off his suit jacket to reveal the damp white shirt underneath. It clung to his chest mercilessly, but he ignored it.

"And what gives you the right to assume that, Stephanie? You have no idea how I feel. I'm not looking for someone like Ms. Bennet. I'm looking for someone who will fit into my life without difficulty, without the need to correct everything she does." Darcy stated resolutely as Stephanie just stared at him a moment in disbelief. He couldn't say he blamed her. Damn, he wasn't even sure he recognized himself anymore. He took a few steps forward carefully.

"Marry me?" Darcy asked impulsively as Lady Stephanie gasped before letting her mouth drop open indelicately. She recovered quickly.

"Why, Darcy? Do you really want to get married or are you just looking for an excuse to run away from her?" Stephanie asked with conviction as Darcy sighed. He truly didn't have an answer for her.

"Do you want me to lie?" Darcy asked suddenly as a look of surprise flitted across her face. She hadn't expected that question from him. But, then again, neither had he. She stood rooted to the ground a moment as if considering what he had said. Being a part of the upper class wasn't about marrying for love. Stephanie knew that. She closed her eyes a moment before releasing a pent up breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"Why not? I suppose we've always managed to get on well." She remarked off-handedly as Darcy nodded. It was a cold moment, emotionless for them both. Why wouldn't it be? It was, after all, a simple business transaction. Stephanie walked toward him suddenly and placed a hand against his wet chest.

"Just one question, Will. Why don't you just fire her?" She asked confidently as Darcy flinched. He wondered what she would say if he answered with the true response to that question. Simple fact was, he just couldn't. She turned and walked away when he didn't answer. Truth was, she hadn't really expected a response from him. He watched her go before muttering under his breath when she was out of ear shot,

"Because I can't."


	24. Chapter 24

**_Elizabeth Bennet..._**

I now remembered why I had always wanted to come to Italy—why I had always wanted to explore my roots here. Why is it that a land you don't live in can seem so magical while the city you did grow up in seems so magical to others? I think it has something to do with the mysteriousness of it—the idea that you can discover something new around every corner. For me, Italy was about history and about family. I may have trouble controlling the family I did come from, but I had relations here in Italy that I loved dearly—an aunt who I had written to regularly since I had learned to spell 'c-a-t.' I may have loathed the idea of coming here with the 'man from Hades' but I was determined to make the best of it by visiting my relations. Lord knows, I needed the break from the 'man of the hour.'

Walking along the streets of Rome, I sighed as I let myself enjoy the night. God the man infuriated me! And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about the big dolt. It's as if he had ingrained himself inside my head, and I just couldn't shake him. Damn! The walk seemed to clear my head, and I shivered slightly as I realized what I had just done back at that restaurant. What was wrong with me? Why didn't I just quit my job? I needed it, this is true, but did I really need it that badly? For that matter, why didn't he just fire me? It was as if we were testing each other to see who could provoke the other the most. I couldn't even understand why I had asked him to teach me about propriety. Or didn't I? I think it was an unconscious effort on my part to be alone with him. It's not as if I took it very seriously. I ask again, what was wrong with me?

I stopped as I realized I had come up on the street I had been aiming for before climbing the stairs of an apartment complex. I lifted my fist to knock only to be almost bowled over when the person I had come to see suddenly raced through the door, stopping in mid-stride when she caught a glimpse of my face.

"Lizzie!" the woman exclaimed before shrieking, hugging me with enthusiasm. "My dear niece. How wonderful to see you!" She remarked in quick Italian before grabbing me by the arm and pulling me after her. I laughed as I tried not to trip. Her frenzied excitement, whether from anger or from some other emotion, was contagious.

"Zia (aunt) Gardiner?" I proclaimed laughingly as I stumbled after her. "Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?" I asked breathlessly as she started scrambling down the street. She shrugged as if this wasn't the first time she had seen me face to face since her trip to America when I was about fifteen. Instead, she kept rushing forward while I followed at a more leisurely pace. Talk about _stumbling_ onto your relations. And here I was looking for peace and quiet. With my family, I should have known better. My zia shook her head and started grumbling incessantly.

"Ahhh, it's that big loaf of an uncle of yours! We had a huge argument about why it's important to help me around the house. He told me that he would lift a finger when God gave him wings to fly so I informed him that I was headed to the church to light him a candle and pray to God to give him the gift of flight." She explained before raising her brow at me.

"And what is the cursing for, my dear. I see you could use a moment in confession yourself for that little habit." She remarked as I roared with laughter. I couldn't help it. Now I remembered why I had enjoyed her letters so much. She reminded me too much of myself—independent and, at times, a little flamboyant. I just controlled my nature a little better than she did. But if you ever pushed the right buttons…well, you get the picture.

"I could definitely think of a few people I could light a candle for." I stated off-handedly as my zia threw me look that said 'ohhhhh.' I shrugged.

"It's not worth the curiosity." I mumbled as she threw me another 'ohhh' look as if she knew I was telling a lie. Another reason to do Hail Mary's I suppose. She laughed suddenly.

"You can tell when you are telling a lie, bella. Your entire face turns pink. Should I worry for any reason?" She asked me with mild amusement, and I smiled softly as I noticed the mischievous glint in her eye. I just didn't think I had it in me to tell her the truth right now. She seemed to understand because she pulled me into a picturesque cathedral before pulling me down the aisle and forcing me to kneel in front of a group of candles.

"Light the candle for whatever devil man is possessing you, bella." She commented vaguely before kneeling next to me and lighting her own candles while grumbling about my uncle again. I rolled my eyes before lifting up my own match and lighting one as well. I didn't speak aloud as my aunt did, but I managed to 'think' aloud every unforgivable thing about Mr. Darcy that I could think of. It made me itch to drag him here myself and have the priest perform an exorcism. My aunt had stopped talking beside me.

"If you scrunch your nose up much more, mi bella, it will stay that way." My aunt stated in wry amusement as I felt my cheeks start to burn again. How come the man fazed me so much? I looked over at her sheepishly.

"May God save my soul because I think I've sold it to Lucifer himself." I remarked sagely as Zia Gardiner sat back on her heels and studied me a moment. It was really the first time she and I had scrutinized each other since she had nearly knocked me down. I may not look much different, except in height and other female attributes, than I did when I was fifteen, but I could tell by the way her eyes softened that she realized I had grown up. She knew from my letters that I had taken on the burdens for my family, knew that I was normally completely level-headed, not because that was my personality, but because I had learned to be that way. I had to. But, Fitzwilliam Darcy brought out the tiger in me, the animal I kept hidden from view unless it was necessary to unearth her. My zia smiled suddenly.

"Then my dear, you should think about dousing 'the man of flames' with a bucket full of cold water." She suggested demurely as I laughed out loud.

"Already accomplished that feat not so very long ago." I replied in amusement as my zia laughed. She knew me. We shared equal tempers.

"Then maybe it is time, mi bella, to teach him that buying a soul costs a pretty price." She remarked as I looked over at her thoughtfully. Maybe she was right. I looked at her quizzically as I noticed her knowing smile.

"You know who I'm talking about, don't you zia?" I asked her curiously as she shrugged.

"Why do you think that I was not so very surprised to see you? I read the papers, mi bella, and I saw pictures of Darcy and his entourage in it under an article discussing appearances or sightings of the 'media mogul' here in our country. It was quite a good article—one about his venture here and so forth. Of course, the picture was a little fuzzy but it was shot upon his arrival and included yourself and a few others in it as well. Besides, your mother rung me up and you know how she goes on and on. Therefore, I assume your problem is your new boss." She explained thoughtfully as I just continued to stare at her. My aunt was a bright woman.

"And you want me to use the element of surprise on Mr. Darcy?" I asked her slowly as my aunt grinned wickedly.

"Why not, mi bella? What is his biggest hang up?" Zia Gardiner asked me purposely. I didn't have to think about that very long.

"Pride…propriety." I answered honestly as my zia shrugged before grinning even more widely.

"And what do you think would surprise and annoy him the most?" She asked me again as I laughed suddenly. The hell with my job! She was right.

"If he's so worried about my lack of decorum, then why not actually give him something to worry about. Is that what you're getting at?" I asked her with a smile as she pulled a flask out from inside her purse. I raised a brow up at her.

"I don't drink." I pointed out cautiously as she looked at me pointedly.

"You do now." She murmured as I shrugged before taking the object from her. In the background, I could hear the priest yelling from inside the confessional.

"You best not be drinking in my church again, Anna Gardiner!" He proclaimed as my aunt rolled her eyes and I smiled winsomely. How at home I felt right now, not on edge or defensive. I could feel the burn from the liquor as my zia looked over her shoulder.

"It's for medicinal purposes, father." She exclaimed as I heard him mumble something about the two of us being expected to spend time in confessional.

"How about I help you to your residence?" My aunt asked as I took another drink and nodded almost groggily. Why not?

* * *

Author's Note: I am so enjoying this story and all of your reviews. Hopefully you are enjoying reading every new element. I am trying to keep with the orginal storyline with only a few twists. But, I suppose, that is what I love about fan fictions. You can play with the original story and just plain old have fun with it. I hope you guys are having fun too. Thank you SOOO much for your reviews. They are truly appreciated and every one of them read. For you rubic-cube for throwing out the fact that you wanted to see our Catholic Elizabeth in a cathedral and a confessional. Besides, it opened a door for Eizabeth to challenge Darcy herself. There will be quite a bit of adventure left in this week in Italy before they return to England at the end of the week. Lots of happiness to you all. 


	25. Chapter 25

_**Jane Houston…**_

She listened to the way the stairs creaked as someone moved up them and she held her breath. While Elizabeth had been fighting mercilessly with their boss, with that dratted man who seemed so determined to anger the poor woman, Jane had been rendezvousing with the dashing Bingley. She felt…different around him. She felt less eccentric and more grounded. It wasn't as if her life had promoted sanity. Her mother was bipolar and her rich father spent most of his time ignoring them both. She had used her flamboyant digressions as a youth to try and get his attention, but instead it seemed only to push him away. It helped her, however, in other instances and so she thrived on the theatric, on pretending to be anything other than what she was. And then she had met Elizabeth Bennet and things had changed. They weren't really anything more than acquaintances at the moment, women who circumstance had put together. But that's how this fast paced world worked these days. In a society centered on fast cars, fast conversations, and fast living, friendships also had to be made fast. Whether it lasted depended on the individuals involved. So far, the two seemed to be connecting. They were very different and yet so very alike. Only time would tell. She did know that they worked well together and it was really Jane's fault that they were both here now. It was also the reason Jane had gotten the opportunity to meet Charles again. They had been friends as teenagers. They all had when they were in their respective boarding schools only because they circulated in the same high society circles. She had fallen in love with him back then although he hadn't known. But what girl wasn't in love with the golden haired Adonis. He was just…superb. She had changed from that gangly, awkward, daring teenager into a daring woman and it seemed to attract him—seemed to make him look twice at her. And so they had spent a good deal of time together. She sat up straighter as the sound of footsteps came closer, as she remembered their first time alone together since seeing him for the first time at the ball upon arrival.

_xxx_

_"You've changed." He had said quietly as she sat across from him with a raised brow and a cocky smile._

_"Not so much. Just in appearance. Or maybe you're the one that has changed." She had replied with a self-assurance she really didn't have. But he didn't know that._

_"Maybe." He remarked vaguely as they continued to look at each other. She had bowed her head to break eye contact._

_"I used to have a crush on you once." She had revealed with a timidity that seemed to make him chuckle. He uttered the simple sound, 'ohhhh,' before placing a finger under her chin and tilting her face upwards._

_"And now? Do you still have a crush on me now?" He had asked with a seriousness that had caused her to blush. She hadn't answered immediately. He smiled._

_"Would it help if I told you I'm the one with a crush at present." He had stated so quietly she had almost missed it. Almost._

_xxx_

After that moment, things had changed. They had become fairly close—close enough that they stole every possible moment in order to be alone. His sisters detested her, made her weary. But he never seemed to care. The door of her room opened suddenly and his head appeared. He looked different tonight. Almost distant. He didn't even step into the room.

"Aren't you coming in?" She whispered to him lightly as he shook his head.

"Not tonight. I just wanted to tell you that I had work to do. It didn't feel right to just not show up." He replied with a shrug as she creased her brows together in confusion. There was something wrong here.

"Oh, okay." She muttered as he nodded.

"Have a good night then." She murmured as he nodded again before blowing her a kiss and closing the door. Jane pulled her knees up to her chest and looked out the window she was sitting next to. The clouds rolled across the skies above, hiding even the stars. What was up with Charles? Maybe, she should talk to Elizabeth. They hadn't spoken much since their arrival in Europe despite all the time they had spent preparing for the job together in America. She needed a close female friend right now so maybe it was time to work on their friendship. It couldn't hurt.

* * *

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

It seems strange how much a person can change in such a short period of time—how a couple of weeks can seem as long as a year, how connections just made can feel like they have been there a lifetime. And that strange, short connection also bothered Darcy. Why wouldn't it? He was sitting in his aunt's study now after flipping through his wallet to unearth an old photo of Stephanie and he almost grimaced. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake, that he needed to find a way to escape it before he made it worse. He had never felt this heavy burden before, this suffocating fear that his choices were wrong ones. He looked up at the portraits of his different ancestors where they hung along the walls. Those dark stares had always haunted him as a child, made him shiver whenever he visited his aunt, but Catherine had always informed him that they were reminders—reminders that life couldn't just be led, it had to be learned. Darcy just wasn't so sure anymore. A sound out in the corridor made him pause and he looked up curiously. It sounded strangely like stumbling. It made him curious enough that he stalked over to the door and peered out. What the hell?

"Elizabeth Bennet?" He exclaimed as he stepped out into the hallway to see the usually reserve, yet fiery brunette tripping over herself in her endeavor to reach the stairs leading to the second floor. She hiccupped before giggling. It didn't take Darcy long to register what her problem was.

"By God woman! Are you drunk?" He asked incredulously as she giggled again. Her reserve seemed lost to her, her hair was tumbling out of the up-do she normally wore it in, her eyes shown in a light that spoke of her uninhibited condition. She seemed to be throwing caution to the wind to replace it with something that would disgust him. His eyes narrowed as she finally quit attempting to move upward and just sat down heavily on the third stair up.

"I don't know. _Am_ I drunk?" She asked him lightly as he moved slowly toward her. Her obvious glee troubled him. Had their dinner conversation really been that disturbing? It had for him. He was almost to her when she suddenly lifted her hand and pointed a trembling finger in his direction.

"You know, I think I hate you. Although I'm not sure if you could even call it that. You're like a tattoo etched across the skin that badly needs removed but you find yourself too scared to have it taken off because of the pain." She said haltingly while hiccupping a few times in between words. Darcy leaned against the railing as he watched her admit to feeling the draw that he felt toward her. This was just an altogether unusual situation.

"Was tonight really that disturbing, Ms. Bennet? Did you really have to imbibe in order to feel better?" He asked casually as she perused his raised brows with unconcealed disdain. The alcohol had taken the edge off of her reservations and she could not hide the feelings that now flitted across her features.

"Oh, I don't know. The conversation at dinner went well I thought. You know what they say about Catholics, right Darcy? We enjoy a drink now and again. I'm just a light weight." She said on a laugh as she stood up suddenly only to loose her balance. Darcy anticipated the movement and caught her just before she hit the floor. Her breath whooshed across his face as he caught her, a slightly tangy but sweet smell and he wondered at the drink she had taken. It wasn't the foul odor associated with beer or other liquors. Instead, it was heady. She batted her lashes as she looked up at him.

"Are you attracted to me, Mr. Darcy?" She asked unabashedly as she ran a finger along the collar of his slightly open shirt. He swallowed hard but kept his balance and his resolve.

"Now what kind of question is that, Ms. Bennet?" He asked softly as she shrugged within his grasp. The movement made him swallow again.

"An inappropriate one." She replied as he shook his head. She wasn't going to remember this conversation tomorrow. He could pretty much ensure that she'd hate herself once the sun rose. He righted her slowly.

"You're right. It's an inappropriate one." He remarked as she tripped again. He finally just held her against him for two reasons. She needed the support and he enjoyed the feel of her there. He shook his head. Her hair smelled liked roses.

"Damn you, Elizabeth Bennet! You make me want to forget who I am. You make me want to pretend to be someone else—someone impulsive. Someone who could pretend for a moment that there was such a possibility as love at first sight—someone who believed in getting married on a whim after a one night stand and we've barely touched." He whispered as he looked down to find their mouths so close…so very close. He closed the distance, letting his lips skim hers softly, feeling that same piercing electricity that always seemed to overtake him when she was near. His head wasn't talking to him anymore. Either that or he was just plain ignoring it. He would have deepened the kiss if their intimacy hadn't sobered her some, hadn't brought some clarity to the situation. She pushed away from him.

"Even if we both believed in such things, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth." She pointed out with clarity before literally stumbling up the stairs. She wouldn't remember this tomorrow. He could bet on it. But he needed to get away. He needed distance. He needed to find the man he fought so hard to be and not the man he was.

* * *

**Author's Footnote: Hey you guys! Hope you haven't waited too long for an update. Smiles. Just wanted to reply to some of the reviews here. First off, thank you all for reading! Hugs! Second, I wanted to address one reviewer and say that no, I'm not Italian although I have always wanted to visit Italy. My main squeeze (laugh) spent time there before he went to Iraq (he was in the military) and, through him, I fell in love with the place. I am certainly not fluent in Italian, although I like to try and speak it (laugh) so I probably butcher whatever Italian I do use so if anyone notices, please be kind, but do not be afraid to make suggestions on the language use. Now, another thing I will point out is that I absolutely LOVE Jane Austen and the story of Pride and Prejudice. I have read it an innumerable amount of times and always adored the regency period when studying literature in college. Therefore, I most definitely give 100 percent credence and bows to her for coming up with a piece of work that let's us look at that time period as if we existed in it ourselves. Therefore, I sincerely hope that my story does not insult anyone who has a love and admiration for Jane Austen and this piece of work. I also believe that a fan fiction is about writing a fictional piece using characters that inspire you so, no, my story, while using characters and moments from the novel, is entirely fictional and hopefully endearing. I mean no insult to the regency novel and actually hope that I do it justice. I always saw Austen's work in a light that I hope comes across in this piece. For one, while Bingley and Jane's relationship in the novel is known by all and is frequently referred to, it is not written much about except in references by comments made by family and etc. Instead, Austen focuses the novel on strained moments between Darcy and Elizabeth, letting the emotions in the book build around that tension. That is why, I suppose, my piece infers the relationship between Bingley and Jane but doesn't focus on it. Also, the relationship between Elizabeth and her sister in the book is also shown in the few deep conversations they have together and through the love they show through letters and etc, but is also sort of put on the back burner in comparison to Darcy and Elizabeth's strained relationship. I suppose that's why I am not focusing so much on that as well. I do intend to bring Collins, Georgiana, Pemberley, and several other of the characters and settings, including the important Colonel Fitzwilliam into the story in due time as well as to delve into the Wickham conflict more deeply now that I've managed to create the desired tension between Lizzie and Darcy. As of now, I even mean to place pieces that involve the other characters such as the piece I did on Jane. I sincerely hope that everyone continues to read and to enjoy and if you feel the need to let me know if I get the language wrong or mess up anything in the story, do not be afraid to let me know. But also remember that I am writing a modern fictional piece with ideas I wish Austen might have employed or would hope that she would have if she had written the story in this time period. Love to all. This update is most certainly for you all, especially for Pippabelle and aragorn is mine who sent reviews that stated update SOON and I'm having withdrawals. That tickled me pink. Love! And please read and review. I look forward to hearing from you all—licensetowrite.**


	26. Chapter 26

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

Later that night, Darcy paced the length of his room, sticking his hand into the pocket of his jeans as he tugged at the polo shirt he had tucked into the waist of the denim. It felt too tight all of a sudden as if the memory of Lizzie's mouth was enough to make his throat swell. He had been foolish—an utter idiot. How did you remedy a mistake like his? He couldn't guarantee she wouldn't remember what had happened, and he was having enough trouble facing his own conscience without having to worry about facing her rebellious nature. Her fire always tended to ignite him, and he knew now that the flames could consume him if he wasn't careful. So, what did you do when a building was on fire? You removed yourself from the burning structure before getting as far away from it as possible. A knock on Darcy's door made him pause in his pacing. Maybe whoever it was would assume he was asleep. The knock came again.

"Darcy? I know you aren't sleeping, mate. Let me in, would you." Charles voice demanded suddenly as Darcy sighed before moving toward the structure. He had enough problems without adding Charles' mistakes to his.

"It's late." Darcy stated simply as he opened the door. Charles nodded in agreement before pushing past Will and moving into the center of the room. Bingley paused as he noticed the open suitcase lying noticeably in the middle of Darcy's bed. He looked up at Will.

"Going somewhere?" Charles asked as Darcy cringed. He knew that Charles was unaware of the blooming relationship between himself and Ms. Bennet and he intended to keep it that way. Therefore, he just shrugged.

"I think I've tied up all of the loose ends here, and I've chosen a manager I think suits the position. He's a long time protégé of my aunt Catherine's and he's an utter perfectionist. I've also sent for Charlotte Lucas. She'll be an invaluable assistant to the man until he can hire his own secretary." Darcy answered vaguely as Charles looked first at Darcy and then at the open suitcase again. He cleared his throat.

"You managed all of that in the middle of the night. And what of the girls?" Bingley asked again as Will sighed before finally unbuttoning the buttons at his neck. He had always been fond of the sporty polos, but right now even his normal attire bugged the hell out of him.

"I had already decided on a manager not long after my arrival here. As for Charlotte, she may be whining over the late night phone call but she's dependable. And the girls? …I've reserved a suite at a wonderful hotel and had the concierge open an account in my name. They will be charging my credit card for whatever length of time they remain here. I gave them each a position at the branch in Merryton for now until I can find something more suitable. They can leave to return whenever they wish. I'm returning to Pemberley…tonight." Darcy said quietly as Charles watched his friend in shocked silence. Darcy was not an impulsive fellow. Something must have happened to cause him to feel he needed to leave. But what? Bingley sat down on a chair near the bed.

"And Stephanie? What of her?" Bingley asked carefully. Darcy sighed.

"I've already informed her of my plans before I started packing. She'll meet me at Pemberley when she can." Darcy answered wearily as Charles shook his head.

"I've never known you to up and leave a project before. Is something bothering you?" Charles asked with serious conviction as Darcy looked down at him resolutely. Charles knew Darcy well enough that a simple lie would not suffice. And then it hit Will.

"I thought it best to go. You should go with me, Charles. This problem with Jane Houston will only intensify if you remain here. Are you willing to change your life for her?" Darcy asked as Charles' eyes darkened suddenly. His feelings were plain. He was tormented and Darcy was giving him an easy out. The mention of Jane was also enough to deflect Charles' suspicions as to Darcy's own motives for leaving. His friend stood up.

"You're leaving just to save my blasted heart?" Charles asked incredulously as Darcy shrugged.

"What are friends for?" He asked as Charles laughed shortly before heading towards the bedroom door. He knew Will was right.

"I'll be ready to go in twenty minutes." He remarked absently before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door softly behind him. Darcy sat down heavily on the end of his bed. The only soul that needed saving was his.

* * *

**Charlotte Lucas…**

That big oaf, the impossible task master….ughhhhhh! Charlotte couldn't help but grumble as she threw clothes into an open suitcase lying haphazardly on her bed. She was irritable and tired and that spastic boss of hers wanted her in Italy as soon as possible so here she was now, thrown hastily together and clutching a file revealing the background and job listings of one Mr. Collins. She had to admit she was impressed by Collin's past accomplishments, although the photo in his file left a lot to be desired. Mr. Darcy had promised him a hefty salary, however, and even promised a two-story home off his aunt's property for his use. It would become Mr. Collin's own home as part of his retirement once he had served out the years required to receive such accommodations. Until then, he could reside in it and do as he pleased with the home until such date. His salary and his residence was enough to make Charlotte Lucas look at his photo twice. She might wish for romance like any modern girl, but unlike most women, she was not foolish enough to depend on such flowery things. She had to make her own way as best she could on her limited business education and her unattractive looks. She sighed as she placed the file on top of her clothes in the suitcase and closed the bag with a 'click.' It was time for her to get underway.

* * *

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

**_The next morning..._**

Oh, God! The sun hurt. That was the only thing I could think of as I tried desperately to crack an eyelid open against the soft sunlight filtering in through the bedroom window. Soft sunlight my ass! Damn, it hurt! My head throbbed and my stomach shifted uneasily as if it weren't sure yet whether or not it needed to be sick. I was betting on the sick part right now.

"Interesting night?" Jane asked softly from beside me, and I groaned. Her voice didn't normally grate on my nerves, but this morning listening to it was as bad as having a construction crew positioned outside your apartment window. She chuckled.

"I wondered what was going on when I heard you stumble into the room last night, and when you passed out…well, Jesus Lizzie, I suddenly wished I was drunk too. But not now. Sit up and take these." Jane admonished as I sat up gingerly before opening my mouth. I was trusting her motives and praying that it was aspirin she was popping down my throat because there was no way in hell that I was opening my eyes. She lifted up something to the edge of my lips and I used the liquid within it to swallow the pills. And then I coughed.

"What the hell?" I gasped as Jane chuckled again.

"The best way to relieve a hang over is to take a few sips of more alcohol in the morning. I promise it works. So, now tell me what inspired you to get wasted last night." She asked me as I lay back down slowly. What _had_ happened last night? A thought nudged itself into my brain, and I sat up quickly. Too quickly. My stomach revolted as Jane jumped away.

"Don't you dare throw up on me! Are you okay? You're as white as a sheet." Jane remarked with concern as I covered my mouth to hide the shock that I felt as much as I possibly could. Or maybe I covered my mouth because my lips burned suddenly at the faint memory. Darcy had kissed me last night. Jesus, Joseph and Mary! And I had let him, had felt the burn of desire and alcohol as it coursed through my veins and I gave in to impulse. And dammit, if I hadn't almost not pulled away! What would have happened if I hadn't pulled away? I coughed as I realized Jane was still standing there while slowly opening my eyes in order to look up at her uneasily.

"It's nothing. I'm just a little queasy that's all. No more drinking for me." I lied as I tried to cope with the bombarding memories. Bits and pieces of conversation floated through my head and I cringed. He had confessed that he had feelings for me! Oh my God! What about that girlfriend of his? What was she to him? Jane sat down on the bed again.

"You seem distracted." Jane stated simply as I just nodded. Of course I was.

"You missed the big news last night by coming home late." Jane added as I looked over at her warily. Oh? Big news? Could I handle any other news?

"What's that?" I asked her carefully as she grinned suddenly.

"That big monster of a man we call boss is getting married. Lady Stephanie announced it last night." Jane supplied as a cold dread washed over my body. That was the last straw. I jumped out of the bed and ran into a connecting bathroom before losing the contents of my stomach.

* * *

**Author's Footnote: As you can tell, the story is taking quite a turn. And once again I am humbled by all of your responses to the story. I look forward to the reviews everyday at work. And a quick shout out to Sobee1982 for keeping me on my toes. I love that you anticipate future chapters and that each sentence makes you questions what's in store. I love you guys! Please keep reading and reviewing! Love!—licensetowrite**


	27. Chapter 27

_It shouldn't bother me, it shouldn't bother me, it shouldn't bother me_……I just kept repeating that over and over in my head a little while later as I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at my pale reflection now after splashing cold water into my face. I looked tired and old. Haggard even. Strange for someone who was barely in her twenties. They say love ages you. Love? What the hell? Had I just said love? I shook my head at myself, my eyes now wide with bewilderment. I was not, I repeat, not in love with Mr. Fitzwilliam 'devil incarnate' Darcy! Nope, nada. A knock sounded on the bathroom door, and I stood still a moment in hesitation. I wasn't really ready to leave my sanctuary. I had been in there a while, long enough that Jane had finally abandoned the room. She was probably back to claim the luxurious space, but I just needed the time alone. And then I heard a sniffle. I looked over my shoulder at the locked door.

"I'm assuming you're not here to see if I'm okay." I called out as the sniffling continued. It could only be Jane. I walked slowly and carefully toward the door. I didn't think that my emotions could handle much more turmoil. Yeah right! I was a woman and you know what they say about women. God created woman out of bone so they could sweep up the dirt that man leaves behind. I pulled the door open, preparing myself for the onslaught but not for the distressed Jane I found now. She was both livid and upset, sniffling while looking at me woefully before turning around, stomping across the room and opening the bedroom window. Oh no! She wouldn't!

"Jane…" I warned as she picked up one of the expensive shammed pillows off of the bed before pulling back her arm and sending it sailing out the window. I gaped. She must be seriously upset. Jane always seemed to turn to the theatrical when she was severely distressed. She picked up another pillow and I yelped.

"Jesus, Jane! What's going on?" I asked resolutely, not making it over to her in time to save the second pillow, although I did grab the vase she was presently aiming for. She looked up at me, her eyes flashing.

"They're gone! Oh, there was a _nice_ little parting message and a nice job opportunity for us both, but those sons of bi…."She began sarcastically as I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. She finally looked me in the eye.

"Now, breathe. Take in nice cleansing breaths and once you're calm, explain to me in slow precision exactly what is going on." I demanded as she hefted in several deep gulps of air. That's not what I had meant by cleansing breaths, but whatever works, right? Jane looked at me coldly.

"Our boss and his little whipping boy, Charles Bingley, are gone. They have decided to leave the running of this branch of the business to someone else and to leave us hanging. Of course, we have jobs lined up in Merryton, as if that parting gift is supposed to make us feel better! God, the man could have just told me that he didn't love me." Jane ranted as I stared at her in shock. What did she mean they were gone? As for the man loving her, I knew instinctually that she was referring to Bingley. I was just too dazed to do anything but stare at the moment. Jane picked up another expensive article of decoration and I didn't stop her. I didn't even notice what it was. Whatever it was, it was glass because even I delighted in the sound of it shattering on the ground below. A commotion from outside the room made us aware of the fact that Darcy's aunt had heard the ruckus we were causing. I was still in shock, although it was slowly dissipating. Staring at Jane, I hissed.

"The coward!" I almost yelled as Jane looked over at me in confusion. Of course she was confused. No one, other than Darcy and I, seemed to be aware of the tension between the two of us. He was a friggin' coward! Running afraid because he couldn't handle what had happened. Damn him! And on top of that, he was getting married. Who did he think he was? Julius Caesar? Because let me tell you something—Et Tu Brute! I sobered as the knob on the bedroom door jangled, and I looked at Jane.

"You said your dad has money, right?" I asked dubiously as I glanced out the window to the shattered antique and muddy pillow shams down below. Jane shrugged. I think she would have had her paycheck docked for a lifetime just for that tiny moment of satisfaction. A woman yelled, and I yelped. It was time to get the hell out of dodge!

"What do we do?" Jane asked suddenly as I looked over at her grim face in astonishment. We? I rolled my eyes.

"Face the piper." I proclaimed as I pulled the door open to find a very angry Catherine DeBourgh as she tapped her cane against the hard floor. I smiled weakly.

"Would you believe it was a momentary lapse in judgement?" I asked candidly as Jane chuckled and Lady Catherine pointed her cane toward the stairs.

"Out now! Out!" She shouted as I quickly turned around and started stuffing things in my bag while Jane grabbed hers. As we were being ushered out the door, I looked over at Jane.

"Did anyone say anything about accommodations?" I asked quietly as Jane nodded.

"Lucky us. Yes." She replied as we began to walk, both of us quiet for different reasons. I didn't feel lucky.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author's Note: Hey you guys! Apologies on the long time in update. Work has been a madhouse and I have been especially busy lately. I hope that you guys are still checking in! Thank you so much for your reviews thus far. They mean the world to me. Please R&R. Love!--Licensetowrite

* * *

**_

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

He knew he had made a mistake a second time—knew that running away did nothing more than intensify the problem. But the truth was, he wasn't running away from her or from fear as much as he was running away from himself—from that little part of him that had always rebelled against the system. He was running away from the little boy that hadn't washed his hands when his father ordered him to do so—from that little part of him that had always hated the aristocracy—had always hated expectation. Darcy looked over at a sleeping Bingley as he pulled the luxury car he had retrieved from the airport into the driveway of Pemberley estate. He felt better as the tires crunched along the gravel just knowing that he was home—a place where he knew every shadow, every corner, every hiding place. It was the one place in the world where he could let down his guard. It was where his sister was. Listening as the brakes squealed when he applied too much pressure, he shifted the car into park before shaking Charles gently.

"Time to wake up, mate." Darcy said insistently as Charles stirred. He looked around wearily, and Darcy felt the first stirrings of guilt. He wasn't doing Bingley any favors. If anything, he had done nothing more than make the man miserable. Charles sat up slowly before stretching.

"I have always liked Pemberley. Even when we were boys. There is something about this piece of property." Bingley said with false cheerfulness as Darcy looked up at his estate. Pride filled his chest at the sight of every stone inside its structure. And then the front door opened, and he smiled with joy as he watched Georgiana stick her head around the thick wood before squealing.

"Will!" She shouted as she barged through the hole and ran down the stairs carefully, trying to avoid tripping in the heels she wore with a sophisticated, yet casual dress. She was quite the young woman and Darcy took pleasure in knowing that she had turned out so well. He threw his car door open and stepped out quickly to avoid having her throw herself into the vehicle, stepping out just in time to catch her flying figure as she moved into his embrace.

"You stay away too much." She complained as Darcy laughed. He supposed he did. Charles stepped out from the other side of the car and Georgiana beamed at him before her expression fell suddenly as she looked between the two men. Georgiana had always been a very perceptive kind of girl—had always been able to discern when something wasn't quite right with the people she loved. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Anything interesting happen while you two were away." She asked curiously as Charles and Will exchanged bemused looks. There was no point in staying depressed when Georgiana was around. She reminded Will a lot of another woman sitting now in Italy probably checking into the hotel he had left instructions for them to check into. Darcy looked down at the ground.

"Not too interesting." He finally muttered as Charles _'hrrrummpphed'_ from across the vehicle before moving toward the two and embracing Georgiana in his own welcome hug.

"Unless you count the fact that your brother is now engaged as interesting news." Charles stated slyly as Georgiana gasped before looking over at her brother. She narrowed her eyes as he kept his eyes averted.

"Engaged? My, my brother. You certainly know how to take a girl back, don't you? Can I take a guess at who the lucky girl is?" She asked winsomely as Darcy brushed past her towards the door. He could tell his sister was more than a little shocked and was trying to cover up her surprise by pretending getting engaged was something he did on every business trip. He was too tired to discuss Stephanie, especially since he knew Georgiana and she had never really gotten along as well as he would have liked.

"Another time maybe." He answered as she followed doggedly behind him, leaving Charles to direct the servants who had come to gather their things. Charles didn't seem to mind. He instinctually knew that Georgiana fully intended to interrogate her brother. Her heels tapped rapidly as she scurried after Darcy.

"Who's the other woman?" She asked so suddenly that Will almost tripped. He couldn't help but be shocked at the fact that Georgiana would ask something like that. First, She discovers he's engaged and then automatically assumes the reason he doesn't want to talk about it is because there was another woman. Who was she kidding?

"What?" He asked in surprise as he turned toward her just inside the foyer of the house. She smiled as she realized she had caught him off guard.

"Ah hah! So there _is_ another woman." She stated simply as Will shook his head in exasperation before turning away again.

"No other woman, Georgiana. I met up with Lady Stephanie in Italy. We reacquainted ourselves and I felt it was about time I thought about settling down. That's all there is to it." He said quietly as Georgiana snorted with unladylike flair from behind him. It almost made him smile.

"Lady Stephanie? Ughhhhh! Settle down? Don't give me that load of bull. I can read every single one of your emotions just from the way your voice changes when you talk. You're running from something…or from someone." She remarked defiantly as Darcy stopped again near the foot of a set of winding stairs. He glanced over at her sternly.

"I'm not running." He defended quickly as she shook her head solemnly, letting her eyes move from side to side as she scanned his face and his pupils gently. She sighed.

"Keep telling yourself that, brother. But, while you try to convince yourself, could you please tell me about this other girl. I'm suddenly very interested in a woman who can tie you into such visible knots." She said with a shrug as Darcy growled amiably.

"There is _no_ other woman!" He argued as Georgiana raised her brows and laughed softly.

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that too." She admonished before brushing past him up the stairs. She looked down just as she reached the top.

"But I still want to hear about this girl that doesn't exist." She insisted before laughing again when Darcy started to chase her up the stairs.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

I looked out the hotel room window as Jane laid her suitcase on a bed just inside an adjoining room. I felt raw and confused—a little baffled at the events of the last couple of hours. Rain poured outside, hitting the asphalt down below in little 'pit, pats' as I stared at it as if it were moving in slow motion—as if it were tears sliding down an invisible cheek. It must feel cold. I wanted to open the window and let it slide across my fingers so that I could pull my hand in and wipe it across my lips where they still burned from the previous night's kiss that kept popping into my head. Mr. Darcy was like a drug. I wanted to forget him, push the poison from my skin, but instead I found myself needing his presence. And I hated myself for it.

"You alright in there?" Jane asked suddenly as I watched my reflection in the window nod at itself.

"Sure." I answered softly before finally touching the glass that housed my tired eyes, hoping I guess that the cold feel of it would infiltrate my senses. I saw Jane's face appear behind my shoulder.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think that you were grieving." Jane remarked perceptibly as I tried not to wince. She was right. I did look like I was mourning and that was not the kind of person that I was. I didn't allow myself to feel depressed or even slightly disillusioned. Mr. Darcy had made it perfectly clear what was important in life.

And he was _wrong_.

The vision of his unguarded eyes popped into my head as I remembered the night before, and I narrowed my eyes in determination. He needed to be taught a lesson. The more he fought to believe that life was nothing more than propriety and expectation, the more I felt I needed to prove him wrong. I turned toward Jane.

"I know you're not Catholic, but how would you like to go light a candle with me?" I asked her suddenly as she stared at me in bemusement. She laughed unexpectedly.

"And we need to do this because?" She asked me quizzically as I smiled slyly.

"Oh, I don't know. There's something about praying for something that makes it all the more clearer. Besides, it's where we'll find some good advice." I said with certainty as I pulled a confused Jane behind me out the hotel room door before locking it and dragging her toward the elevators. We caught a cab once we reached the sidewalk, and I pointed the driver toward the cathedral from the night before. The driver raised a brow before shrugging and turning the car in that direction. It didn't take long to get there, and I shoved my way through the rain toward the inviting door, glancing back only once to make sure that Jane was still behind me. She was.

"I hope this is worth getting soaked, Lizzie." She called out as I laughed before squinting through the dark interior before clapping when I noticed my target. Yay! I knew she'd be here.

"I'm guessing Uncle Gardiner didn't grow wings over night." I stated simply as I came up to stand behind my zia carefully. She didn't even jump as if she knew I'd be coming.

"That stubborn man! He probably woke up this morning, noticed they were there, and then cut them off with a kitchen knife." She retorted before turning around and embracing me lovingly. She nodded at Jane and I introduced them quickly before filling her in on the events of the last couple of hours, omitting the part about what happened between Darcy and I. She seemed to know though.

"It looks like you two need some divine intervention." My zia proclaimed as Jane stared at my aunt before looking over at me.

"Have I missed something here?" She asked resolutely as I tried not to laugh.

"Maybe a little, but the important thing is to get you back with Charles." I commented as my aunt moved closer to me inconspicuously before whispering in my ear.

"This isn't just to help your friend." She said knowingly as I shrugged in reply. Maybe it wasn't. Jane was oblivious to the exchange. She was too interested in what I had in mind to get her and Bingley back together.

"What are you up to, Lizzie?" Jane asked curiously as I looked over at my aunt. My zia smiled before looking over at Jane.

"I think my niece here is suddenly interested in learning business politics." Aunt Gardiner answered as I grinned and looked between Jane and my aunt.

"And I just didn't think it would be as much fun without my wonderful zia along." I commented as she clapped. Yep, I was definitely interested in causing a stir.

* * *

**_Later..._**

It was a couple of hours later when Jane and I finally got to meet the man that Darcy had hired for the Italian branch of his business. We were standing at our desks drinking coffee when he entered Imperial along with Charlotte Lucas, and I smiled brightly at the first sight of Darcy's brunette secretary.

"Charlotte!" I exclaimed as I hurried over to her and hugged her quickly. She hugged me formally back before indicating the small, stocky man beside her. He was balding slightly and reminded me, quite remarkably, of a small bull dog.

"Ms. Bennet, Ms. Houston, this is Mr. Collins. He will be taking over where Mr. Wickham left off, and we are expecting great things from him." She proclaimed as we all nodded respectfully before shaking hands. Mr. Collin's grasp was a little too enthusiastic for my comfort, but I clenched my teeth and tried not to pull away. My plan needed him.

"I have heard quite a deal about you both, and I am excited to meet you." Mr. Collins exclaimed as I let my mouth form a small 'oh.' He let himself peruse me with a forthrightness that made me uncomfortable.

"I look forward to working with the two of you." He added as Jane and I agreed half-heartedly. I looked over at Charlotte. Now was my chance to initiate my plan.

"I know it's early to be talking business and I realize that Mr. Collins just arrived here in Italy, but call me curious. Mr. Collins will need to return back to England briefly, no? This company will need proficient employees and a few supplies that can be easily garnered from our branch in England, is that not so?" I asked sweetly as Charlotte knotted her brows together in thought.

"I suppose so." She answered carefully as I smiled over at Mr. Collins.

"You'll most certainly want to interview your own employees?" I asked him helpfully as he nodded with enthusiasm. I knew that one of the things Mr. Darcy was adamant about was gathering a few employees from Great Britain to help with the set up and order in Italy. My plan depended on Collins feeling the need to be expressly active in his own employment process.

"Oh yes, indeed!" He proclaimed as he stared at me once again. "I am impressed by your business sense, Ms. Bennet. It is indeed the mark of a good boss to make sure that he hires respectable and proficient help. Sometimes, as is the case in new businesses, it is better for the boss to be involved in the entire setting up process. Very astute of you. I do intend to return to Great Britain probably sometime tomorrow. But wanted to come up here first to see what I would be working with and which areas needed the most attention and the most help." He pointed out as I continued to nod helpfully while doing a little cheer in my head. Jane was barely containing herself from beside me—knowing that we would be returning tomorrow as well. I had every intention of making sure we were with him when he left. Mr. Collins was fast becoming an asset.


	30. Chapter 30

**_A Plane the Next Day…._**

"Tell me again why you feel the need to crash the Pemberley estate." Jane insisted loudly from beside me as I glanced out the airplane window with a wince. I wasn't all that good with heights.

"Shhhhhh!" I hissed as I looked over my shoulder to where Mr. Collins was sitting quietly reading what looked to be a stock market type magazine. He looked up then and practically wagged his eyebrows at me. I fought to keep down the bile that rose in my throat before looking back over at Jane.

"For you. That's why. And because I'm highly pissed off at this point." I murmured as she shook her head gently.

"And bringing your aunt along as well as that messed up family of yours is supposed to accomplish what?" She asked as I shrugged. It just seemed like a good idea. At this point, I fully intended to be exactly who I was always meant to be—Elizabeth Bennet. If that meant quitting my job and allowing Mr. Darcy to see what my family could really be like then so be it. I was tired of playing games—tired of running around in circles. My aunt turned around from where she was sitting in front of us. I could tell she was looking forward to this little vacation I had offered her.

"Our little Lizzie wants to irritate the hell out of Fitzwilliam Darcy, that's why." Aunt Gardiner answered for me as Jane groaned. So, I wanted to take initiative for once. I was tired of being a puppet on a string—manipulated to suit everyone's purpose but my own. I closed my eyes as I heard a noise from behind my seat.

"You are looking exceptionally well for someone traveling." Mr. Collins complimented as I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Collins." I announced as Jane snickered. I was sorely tempted to open an exit and parachute myself out of the plane. Was I doing the right thing?

* * *

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

"You still haven't told me anything about this woman you're hung up on." Georgiana insisted the next afternoon as Will instructed some servants to make up all of the upstairs rooms in the house. His aunt Catherine was flying in with Lady Stephanie to help prepare for the upcoming nuptials and Charles's sister Caroline had insisted she be involved also. Not to mention that Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitwilliam, had decided now was a wonderful time for a visit as well. Will knew better than to try and relax. He looked over at his sister.

"That's because there is _no_ other woman, Georgie." He explained futilely as his sister followed him around unabashedly. She seemed determined to pick his brain.

"Talk to me, William!" She demanded as she hurried behind him. "I know you, brother, and something is going on in that sophisticated head of yours. It may help to talk." She exclaimed as Darcy stopped moving long enough to grab his sister by the shoulders—looking her deep in the eyes as he sighed.

"There is _nothing_ to explore, Georgie! No mystery. No hot, torrid affair. Just business and one big mess after mess that had to be fixed. And now, I find I want to settle down. Is that so hard to believe?" Darcy asked candidly as his sister pressed her lips together firmly. Her brother had never intimidated her. And she wasn't fooled by his denials.

"Yes, Will, it is. You don't love Stephanie. I know you don't." She implored as Darcy shrugged nonchalantly.

"And what law book says that I have to?" Darcy asked as Georgiana's mouth fell open slightly only to close as she narrowed her eyes before standing on her tiptoes so that their noses almost touched.

"Because you're not telling me something, brother. And if I'm not mistaken, you are in love with someone else." Georgiana huffed before pushing her brother's hands off her arms and spinning on her heels while Will looked after her incredulously. Love? Ridiculous! A butler tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir, Lady Catherine DeBourgh and party have arrived." The man stated simply as Darcy rubbed a hand wearily down his face.

"Show them in, Jenkins." He said in a low, defeated tone. He didn't notice Georgiana watching him from the stairs.

* * *

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

Our first stop after landing was Longbourn only because Mr. Collins needed to stop by the office in Merryton. I wasn't at all put off by the pit stop because I had every intention of seeing my family. Even Aunt Gardiner was excited as we approached the estate, watching as the doors flew open upon our arrival to expose the excited faces of my sisters.

"Lizzie!" They yelled before surrounding me in the yard in front of the house. "Tell us everything! How was Italy? Are Italian men as hot as they say? How much wine did you drink? Did you go to any parties?" The twins asked me rapidly as Mary shook her head and rolled her eyes in disgust.

"I would think dear Lizzie would be more interested in Rome's history—the Coliseum, the structures, the baths, the church…." Mary droned on as mama rushed out the door to grab first myself and then her sister, my zia.

"It is so good to have you back. And sister! My, you look well…I suppose. Did you rendezvous any with the handsome Mr. Bingley, Lizzie?" Mama asked as I sighed. I just had to keep reminding myself that I did love these people. Not to mention that I heard Jane gasp at that statement. I looked over at her quickly in order to reassure her that I had no designs on the man she loved before facing my mama again.

"No, mother, I did not rendezvous with the impeccable Mr. Bingley. I spent all of my time working." I answered as mama's face fell in disappointment. She really depended on the idea that I would marry well. I think that, in truth, she was more afraid of being left helpless and old as each of her daughters grew older. I couldn't blame her for that. I couldn't blame her for the fear of dying alone unable to take care of herself. And that's why I loved her despite her rantings because I knew she ranted for a reason. I just hoped she knew that even if I was as poor as a church mouse when she got too old to get around on her own, that I fully intended to find a way to take care of her and papa. I just wasn't marrying someone I didn't love in order to accomplish that. I smiled at her suddenly.

"How would you guys all like to join me on a business trip?" I asked them cheerfully as mama looked up and the twins squealed. Even Mary's eyes twinkled even though she tried her best to hide it. Mary was such a pretty girl, but painfully shy and awkward. She hid her beautiful blue eyes behind glasses, even though she truly didn't need the spectacles. She had luxurious, curly hair like my own but she kept it pinned up severely. Her complexion was flawless although she kept it constantly hidden behind a book, and she could play the piano like a dream as long as she avoided singing. Out of all of my sisters, she was one of the most beautiful but you wouldn't notice because she hid it so very well. As a matter of fact, she hid it well enough that she never received a second glance from anyone and at eighteen, five years younger than myself, it was time she found herself being looked at. I think she hid behind her books because she found it hard being born second in a family full of rambunctiousness. It was almost as if she was afraid to be anything other than intelligent. Strange how that made me feel close to her, because I knew she and I both hid, albeit in different ways. I smiled at her and winked. She grinned softly back.

"Where would we be going, Lizzie?" Mama asked as I smiled slyly before catching my aunt's and Jane's amused looks. Taking a deep breath, I faced my family.

"To Pemberley, the estate of my boss, Mr. Darcy." I replied simply as the twins laughed and mama groaned. I knew she had no affectionate feelings toward Darcy. Lydia jumped up and down excitedly.

"I've heard the servants here say that his home is as big as four three story houses put together. Maybe even bigger." She proclaimed as I tried not to roll my eyes. How easily it was for the twins to be awed. If only they knew the beast that resided there. Just the thought of him made my blood pressure rise both in a good way and in a loathsome one. Mama shrugged.

"At least the accommodations will be good, even if the company will be sorely lacking." She retorted as Aunt Gardiner chuckled suddenly and Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Oh, Darcy wouldn't know what hit him.

"Pack up then." I announced before clapping my hands together soundly. "We'll be leaving as soon as a new employee of Mr. Darcy's finishes up a few things." I stated quickly as mama and the girls rushed back inside the house. Mama glanced back only once.

"This new employee? Is he rich?" She asked as I threw my hands up into the air in aggravation. Yep, that was my family for you. Mama didn't look the least bit contrite.

"By the way, Lizzie. A man by the name of Wickham came by here looking for you." Mama said quietly as she turned to head back up the stairs. My blood ran cold. Mr. Wickham in England? So near Imperial? My plan took on a new light. My brain was filled with warning bells, with the sudden need to warn Darcy, because even though I wanted to teach him a lesson, I also respected him enough that I didn't want anything to happen to his company. Too many people depended on it for a living. I looked back at Jane. She seemed to be reading my thoughts.

"What the hell could he want?" Jane asked in a loud whisper as I shook my head.

"I don't know, but it can't be good." I answered as the three of us—my aunt, Jane, and I—stood like a united front waiting for our troops to join us. Wickham had never met an angry Italian, with the exception of the toe stomping incident. He certainly didn't want to start out by angering an entire family of them. Even Mary could turn into a little tigress when pushed too far. I'd seen her do it and it was a remarkable sight. The battle cry had been sounded and we were headed off to war. My aunt sighed.

"Why do I feel the need to yell 'get ready to rumble?'" My aunt asked as Jane and I laughed.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Fitzwilliam Darcy…**_

_**A few hours later…**_

There were people milling all over his house and Darcy felt the sudden need to yell. One more excited squeal from Caroline and Stephanie over a dress design and Darcy was going to throw the book they were looking at out the window. He felt like a damned caged tiger. What was wrong with him?

"If I didn't know you so well, I'd think you were thinking about homicide." His cousin said suddenly from behind him and Darcy turned to face the fairly young colonel with a smile. Now, this was one man he had always felt comfortable with, almost as comfortable as he felt with Charles. For one, they shared a similar personality along with their name. Colonel Fitzwilliam and he had always been amused by that. He shrugged.

"I'm just a little on edge, that's all." Will announced as he watched Stephanie's young, twenty-two year old blonde brother talking animatedly with Charles. He was an idealistic man, going to school to study science and history. And then Will's eyes narrowed as he saw Georgiana watching him almost fondly from the side of the room. At twenty, she had the luxury of being attracted to every attractive man without worrying about settling down as of yet, but Georgiana had a history of making mistakes when it came to men. And it made Darcy worry. The colonel noticed.

"I wouldn't worry about young Lord Devon over there. He's too absorbed in his dissertation at school to look twice at anything female." The colonel pointed out as Darcy chuckled. He remembered being that way himself at that age—too caught up in making a success of himself and his family name to care too much about female company. The Colonel glanced at Stephanie and then over at Darcy.

"So, old boy, you really know what you are doing deciding to walk into the matrimony trap?" The colonel asked as Darcy sighed. No, he really didn't.

"At this point, I'm in a daze." Darcy answered honestly as the colonel laughed and offered him a small glass of scotch. Darcy took it and swallowed the liqueur with a flourish. Lady Stephanie squealed again as the butler appeared suddenly at the door of the room.

"You seem to have more guests, sir." The butler announced in a tired tone as Georgiana glanced curiously at Darcy and Charles' face grew pale. Darcy and Bingley looked over at each other as if the two of them were now thinking the same thing. They probably were. She wouldn't! _They_ wouldn't! Oh, hell! It was Jane and Elizabeth for God's sake. Of course they would. Darcy sighed.

"Show them into the foyer, Jenkins. I'll meet with them there." Darcy answered as he swigged down the rest of the scotch in one large gulp before handing the glass to the Colonel and heading toward the door. Georgiana followed closely behind.

"Don't even think about discouraging me, brother. I suddenly have the feeling that I am about to get the answers to all of my unanswered questions." She stated in an amused manner as Darcy took a deep breath before stepping into the hall. His heart nearly stopped. He should have known Ms. Bennet wouldn't take kindly to being left behind because now his little fiery vixen was standing before him in all of her Italian glory. Elizabeth Bennet nodded respectfully. Darcy's new manager stood beside her.

"Mr. Darcy? How good of you to invite us here while I try to look over the records dealing with your Italian business!" Mr. Collins gushed as he stepped forward with an outstretched hand. But Darcy's eyes were only for Elizabeth.

"Invited you?" Darcy asked as Elizabeth smiled and nodded her head innocently.

"Surely you remember, sir. You were very adamant about making your new employee quite welcome if I recall the last time that we spoke." Elizabeth Bennet proclaimed as Darcy clenched his teeth together soundly. She had challenged his hospitality knowing that he wouldn't refuse. The conniving little…

"It's a pleasure to receive you here." Darcy said quietly to Mr. Collins as he paled even more when Lizzie's confounded family as well as Jane and a woman he didn't know suddenly walked into the door. She had to be kidding him! This was not happening. Georgiana chuckled lightly as she stepped up next to her brother.

"Oh, I like her!" Georgie whispered to him confidently as Darcy groaned. That was it! He was going to fire her! Looking once again up into Lizzie's eyes, he suddenly realized that it didn't matter if he did. She wouldn't care. Oh, two could play this game.

"Welcome!" He commented suddenly as he smiled forcefully at Elizabeth's entire family as he approached her.

"I see you took the 'let's put family first' memo rather seriously, huh Ms. Bennet?" He asked with clenched teeth as she grinned.

"You betcha!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Just wanted to add a quick good luck wish to aragorn is mine. Good luck on your yearly exams and thank you for reading and reviewing despite your need to study. Wonderful wishes!**


	32. Chapter 32

_**Elizabeth Bennet…**_

I saw the ire in his eyes the moment that our pupils met and still I refused to quiver. He had infuriated me, placed himself on a pedestal and kicked Jane and I to the curb one too many times. I didn't take well to that. Mind you, I didn't take well to that at all. That's why I was here. Let him fire me or let me quit one. It didn't matter which. Both served my purpose. A young woman standing next to him smiled brightly, and I couldn't help but grin. She was astounding and the resemblance to Darcy made no doubt as to whom she was.

"Welcome. I am Lady Georgiana Darcy, Will's sister. It is a pleasure to have you all here. Why don't I show you into the parlor where everyone is now gathered." She greeted cheerfully as Darcy looked away. It seemed he had been as civil as he could manage at the moment, and Georgiana seemed aware of that as if she knew how her brother worked. That thought almost made me smile again as I began to follow everyone into the other room only to be halted when I felt an arm at my elbow. I knew immediately who it was.

"What are you doing, Ms. Bennet?" Mr. Darcy asked me suddenly as everyone passed by us to exit the room. I didn't even look at him.

"I'm working." I stated simply as he forced me to look at him.

"This is not the department I assigned you and Jane to. This is my home for God's sake." He rumbled as I looked around with interest, noting the antiques and gilded mirrors that hung along the hall.

"Oh, you had me fooled. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was at a museum." I replied as he shook his head. He wasn't the only one who was irate.

"Don't play games with me, Ms. Bennet! I want to know why you are here." He asked again insistently as I turned to face him fully, knowing that my eyes flashed as I leaned in close.

"Games? Who's been playing games, Mr. Darcy? Certainly not I. I've been nothing but honest since I joined your company. As to why I'm here, would it surprise you if I told you that I was here to resign?" I asked him furiously as he paused. That seemed to surprise him. I'm not sure why.

"You're quitting?" He asked softly as I stood almost toe to toe with him now, my heart racing from something more than anger.

"That surprises you. Mr. Darcy? Isn't that what you wanted all along? Isn't that what you have been pushing for?" I asked reasonably as he stared down at me in silence. He truly seemed at a loss for words. His hand found my arm as if by its own volition, but I refused to be effected by it.

"I'll be putting in to complete my last two weeks of course." I explained as his hand tightened on my sleeve. We were so very close. Just a little closer…

"Darcy? Where have you gotten off to mate?" A male voice asked from the other room and Darcy pulled away before running a hand through his hair. He looked over at me.

"We aren't finished, Ms. Bennet." He stated pointedly as I watched his eyes darken. I couldn't help myself.

"Finished with what, Mr. Darcy? With my job or with whatever just happened between us?" I asked him brazenly as a young, handsome man walked suddenly into the room. My eyes averted to meet the newcomer who stared now at me with an interested grin.

"Here you are, Will! And I see why you've stayed away." The man commented as Will sighed low enough I would almost think it was a growl. I didn't dare look at Mr. Darcy. Was he angry at me or at the interest this man suddenly showed toward me.

"Colonel, this is my employee, Ms. Elizabeth Bennet. Ms. Bennet, this is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam." Darcy introduced as the Colonel made his way over to me before lifting my hand slowly in order to kiss it in a gentlemanly fashion. It made me want to laugh. How refreshing it was to have someone treat me like a lady.

"Ms.? As in unmarried?" The Colonel asked as I laughed. Now _that _was a pick up line.

"Unattached, yes." I answered helpfully before pulling my hand out of his grip. He was a handsome man but he certainly didn't cause my stomach to do somersaults. No, unfortunately that man now stood behind me, and he was awful quiet. Colonel Fitzwilliam perused me a moment quietly.

"Would you humor me a moment and allow me to escort you into the other room, Ms. Bennet?" The colonel asked as Darcy suddenly stepped forward.

"I wasn't quite done with Ms. Bennet, cousin. I hope you understand. I need her to catch me up on what is happening in my business." Mr. Darcy exclaimed as I looked between the men carefully. I didn't owe Darcy anything.

"Surely business can wait, Mr. Darcy. Please, show me to the other room, Colonel. I'd be delighted to have you as an escort." I commented with certainty as the Colonel glanced between the two of us before shrugging and offering me his arm. I felt like a young Lady from an historical romance novel. One glance behind me, and I noticed Darcy's face as he stood in the foyer with eyes closed, a hand against his forehead, and his jaw clenched. My heart suddenly went out to him against its own accord.


	33. Chapter 33

_**The assembled guests…**_

_**Jane Houston…**_

Jane tried avoiding looking at Charles but there was no use. Her gaze moved toward him as if there were an invisible magnet that wouldn't let her out of its grasp. How angry she was at him at the moment, how angry after everything they had shared since her return to Europe—the late night talks they had had, the unexpected passion that had flared between the two. The memories of stolen moments caused her skin to crawl in ways that it probably shouldn't. He looked up then and their eyes met. She thought she saw regret there and she fought the sense of triumph that made her feel. What had made him leave? Were the rumors about her that disturbing to him?

"Men sometimes fear love more than death." A voice said from behind her and Jane turned to find Elizabeth's aunt watching the exchange between Charles and herself. It made Jane flush. But Lizzie's zia waved her hand.

"Posh with the embarrassment, child. I'm not so old that I don't know a heated glance when I see one. He's afraid." Zia Gardiner commented as Jane looked over at Charles once more.

"Afraid of what?" Jane asked as Elizabeth's aunt chuckled lightly.

"Of letting go. Men fear love because it means giving control of their heart to someone else and the male testosterone fears losing control." Zia explained as Jane looked over at her quietly. That did make sense.

"Do you have children, Zia Gardiner?" Jane asked with a small smile as the older woman laughed.

"Are you volunteering, dear?" Zia asked in return as the two shared a grin. Jane looked up once more and allowed her face to express confidence instead of hope. She wanted Charles to know that she didn't need him. She wanted him, but she certainly didn't need him. His eyes met hers and he sat up straighter. Aunt Gardiner chuckled.

"That's it, girl. Make him realize that he's the one that needs you."

* * *

_**Georgiana Darcy…**_

Georgiana watched the guests with interest, almost laughing as Mrs. Bennet pulled on her clothes when she spilled a little wine down her large cleavage. She was certainly not a modest woman by the way she dabbed at it conspicuously. Her daughters surrounded her like little planets. Two of them were twins and seemed oblivious to their mother's embarrassing actions, but the third couldn't be any younger than Georgiana if not the same age and she seemed mortified, hiding her nose in a book about the history of Europe. It made Georgiana smile slightly. How wonderful it must be to have such an…interesting family. Boredom was never an option. And then Georgiana caught sight of Elizabeth and she sighed. _That_ was the woman Darcy was in love with. There was no doubt in Georgie's mind. She had never seen her brother so conflicted before, so un-used to questioning his own judgment. She had also never seen him so enamored, although he refused to admit to that. To most, it would appear that he hated the woman, but she knew her brother and she knew when he was feeling passion instead of anger. The electricity between the two of them was pure, unadulterated passion. Colonel Fitzwilliam said something to Elizabeth and she laughed just as Darcy entered the room. Will's eyes grew dark, and he closed them briefly as if in pain while moving across the room. Georgiana shook her head. Why was he doing this to himself? Was he that afraid of letting go? Georgiana figured it was time to get to know the flamboyant Elizabeth Bennet a little better.

* * *

_**Mary Bennet…**_

Somewhere between reading about the Reformation and the French Revolution, Mary found herself rubbing her temples and realized a headache was coming on. She absorbed the information inside the pages with adamant attention despite the shrill nature of her mother's voice. She needed to disappear. Elizabeth had always found it easy to accept the way their mother acted in public, had always seemed to find the good in everyone, but Mary was soundly disgusted by it at times. Simple fact was, it embarrassed her.

"You look bored." A cheerful voice said from behind her and Mary spun to find Darcy's sister, Georgiana perusing her curiously. Mary sighed.

"No, not bored…really, this is a lively affair. I'm just a little tired." Mary stated simply as Georgiana grinned and pointed across the room. Mary followed the direction of her finger and felt her cheeks darken with a crimson flush as her eyes landed on a young man speaking happily with Charles. He was a well built man, blonde and slightly tanned. And he was young.

"Why don't I introduce you to some of the guests?" Georgiana asked as Mary scoffed.

"Oh no, I couldn't….I" Mary began as Georgiana waved off her statement and pulled her along behind her. Mary closed her eyes and prayed that they weren't moving toward the men. She was just not a very good conversationalist. Unfortunately, when she opened her eyes, she found them resting on Charles Bingley. Damn!

"Hello, gentleman!" Georgiana supplied winsomely as she pointed toward Mary. "I'm sure you remember Elizabeth's sister, Mary, Charles?" Georgiana asked before turning meekly toward the other man. Mary could tell by the way that the young woman moved that she was interested in him. It was a good thing that Mary posed no threat.

"Mary, this is Lord Devon. He is Lady Stephanie's brother. He's also a scholar. Is that not so, Lord Devon?" Georgiana asked with a smile as Lord Devon turned his blue eyes toward the women. They were like clear bottomless ponds, and Mary found herself lost in them. Now would be a good time for her to look at the ground. So she did.

"I'd like to think I am, Lady Darcy. Thank you for the compliment. And it's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Bennet." Lord Devon stated in a friendly tone as Mary nodded. That's all she could manage really. Georgiana sighed.

"Mind if we women ask what you men were discussing?" Georgiana asked as Lord Devon shrugged.

"Mostly, I was doing the talking. I was telling Bingley here of a new theory I have about the Egyptian project I've been helping a professor with. I've been dabbling in archeology, and I'm fascinated with a few new discoveries. There's markings on some of the pieces that denote some sort of ritual. I haven't figure out what kind. But it appears to be something to do with sacrifice." The man stated simply as Georgiana nodded. Lord Devon was very similar to her brother, Mr. Darcy. He was very absorbed in his own business and accomplishments, not because he was vain but because it was important to him. Mary listened quietly before glancing up. He was encroaching on her territory now and she felt more comfortable.

"It depends on the type of mark, doesn't it? If it's indentation, then you may be looking at something that may denote cannibalism. If it's bone that is. Or maybe a type of ancient writing or primitive calendar use. If it's something that appears scraped or chopped, then you are looking at more or a ritualistic type death because the bone was not revered—only used to meet an end or a hurried purpose possibly to appease a God. Again, that's only if your discovery is a bone." Mary inserted as the group grew uncomfortably quiet. May blushed before looking away again. She caught sight of her sister, Elizabeth, and sighed.

"I…um…must see my sister a moment. If you will excuse me." Mary insisted as she moved to exit the group. Georgiana looked impressed as did Lord Devon who held up his hand a moment to stop her.

"Are you interested in science and history, Ms. Bennet?" He asked softly as Mary shrugged.

"It tends to fascinate me." She answered quietly before turning away again, feeling her face darken more as Lord Devon called out,

"Then maybe we'll get a chance to discuss it more. I'd like to see what you think about the finds." He emphasized as Mary merely nodded, trying to hide a smile that fought to break out across her face. When she looked back though, Devon was devoting his attention to the very beautiful Georgiana.


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note: Hey you guys! I'm still here, I promise. I have had to go out of town a few times for work and things have been incredibly busy, but I have managed to type up more of the story and I am very curious as to what you guys will think. I think it is time for the turning point of the story, and I am excited for it. Hope you guys are still out there. Hugs to you all. Please Read and Review.

* * *

**

**_Elizabeth Bennet..._**

Colonel Fitzwilliam was a wonderful escort—attentive, talkative, even distracting. They were qualities that most women would find stimulating and maybe even attractive, but I found myself consumed instead—consumed with this strange twist of irony that had transpired in my life. _He (and yes, I mean Mr. Darcy)_ was becoming almost like an obsession, filling my brain with thoughts of him. The way he cocked his head to the side when he was agitated, the way he clenched his jaw when he had an opposing opinion, the way his eyes burned when he felt passionate about something. It made me want to scream. Why was I noticing these things? Why should I care? Looking up now, I noticed him across the room, and he was watching me thoughtfully. He wasn't hiding the fact—wasn't hiding behind any pretense whatsoever. He was just openly watching me and it was disconcerting.

"He's an interesting man, our Mr. Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said suddenly from beside me, and I jumped. My cheeks flamed as I realized that I had stopped listening to him some time ago, and I looked over at him sheepishly.

"And why would you say that Colonel?" I asked him curiously as the Colonel shrugged before leading me over to a secluded part of the room.

"He portrays himself as a gruff man at times, Ms. Bennet, but he is truly one of the most noble, loyal, and dependable men. a man could consider an acquaintance. He's proved himself time and again by rescuing those who need it, by sacrificing things for the people closest to him. Look at his friend Mr. Bingley for example." The Colonel pointed out as I scanned the room unconsciously for Charles. What had he done for Mr. Bingley? Charles seemed a perfectly capable man to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked the Colonel warily as he tipped up a glass of bourbon before gesturing nonchalantly with the now empty decanter.

"Well, from what I hear, Darcy freed the man from a certain catastrophic engagement by talking some sense into the fellow. Something about the woman Charles was in love with being crazy as a loon. But then, that's just hearsay." Colonel Fitzwilliam commented in hushed tones as my ears began to roar.

What?

I could practically feel the anger infuse me, could feel my cheeks burn with indignation. Who was Darcy to believe he knew about the intricacies of love, who believed he could decide whether a person was good enough for someone else or not. That's not what love was all about. I may be overly romantic at times, but I desperately favor that over being entirely too overbearing. The…the..ughhhhh!

"Are you alright, Ms. Bennet? You look a little peeked." The Colonel asked as I waved off his concern. My emotions must be flitting across my face like a damn banner or neon flashing sign.

"I'm fine. Just a touch of a headache." I reassured him before excusing myself and dissolving into the small group of people. I could hear my mother laughing, could hear Lydia and Kitty talking about a man that they had been chatting with on the internet before giggling secretly, could hear Mary as she played softly on a piano somewhere probably to escape the mass of people, and yet I continued to walk deep in thought. Maybe I was making an assumption. Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. Maybe the woman Colonel Fitzwilliam had been talking about was _not_ Jane. I mean, he couldn't possibly be talking about Jane. Could he?

Walking through a door at the side of the parlor, I suddenly found myself in a billiard room and I sighed. The balls laying silently on the green felt that made up the top of the pool table looked too inviting. I wanted to throw them, to break something…anything.

"Is there a reason you're wandering around my house, Ms. Bennet?" A voice asked nonchalantly from behind me and I froze. Any movement would make me explode at this point so I figured it was better just not to move at all.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't wander, Mr. Darcy." I asked icily in return while staring straight ahead at the wall. I could hear him moving closer to me, and I cringed. I expected to cringe from distaste, maybe even rage, but I found myself cringing from lust instead. Yes, lust. I was attracted to the man. No reason to deny it now.

"Maybe it's best you did come in here." He said quietly before coming now to stand beside me. I didn't even bother to look in his direction.

"I never intended for you to feel like you needed to resign, Ms. Bennet. I would actually rather prefer you stay with the company." He continued while I took in a deep breath before finally turning toward him.

"Why should I stay?" I asked him in a whisper, mocking his hushed tones as if we were both afraid of being overheard. Or maybe we were both just being careful not to crack. His eyes searched mine.

"Because I'm asking you to." He answered unexpectantly, and I knew my eyes must have widened in shock. He what?

"What…why?" I asked him in surprise as he looked at the slightly open door behind us before glancing back at me.

"Because, against my better judgment, I can't keep you out of my head, Ms. Bennet. Because, despite the fact that I am engaged to a perfectly respectable woman, I can't seem to keep my eyes off of you. Why is that?" He asked me suddenly as my heart began to fume. He was maddening! I was so very angry at his declaration mostly because I was so confused. I saw his face lower towards mine and I let him advance because I didn't have it in me to tell him no. It was almost as if we had both been fighting too hard because when we finally did come together, it was with harsh purpose—our lips crashing onto each other with a deliberateness that managed to back me up into the edge of the pool table. His hands found the clip I used to keep my hair pinned to the top of my head and before I knew it my hair was around my shoulders—his hands tangled almost desperately in the mass of curls. The contact of his lips made my lips burn, my breath come short and hurried.

"Dammit Lizzie." He whispered in a husky tone as hips lips broke contact long enough for my senses to come back to themselves, for my head to achieve a sense of normalcy once more and I pushed away from him. He didn't fight me, seemed resigned to the fact that I looked pissed off. My lips still burned.

"You are a hypocrite, Will!" I cried out as his eyes narrowed.

"And what makes you think that, Ms. Bennet?" He asked as I scoffed.

"Even in declaring your attraction or love…or whatever you want to call it for me, you also manage to insult me. How do you do it? How do you manage to tell me that thinking about me is against your better judgment and still manage to make me want to lose myself in your touch. How do you manage to find yourself wanting me when you have a perfectly 'respectable' woman planning your wedding in the next room? I'm floored. Really I am. And, on top of that, I discover you are the reason Charles left Italy!" I scoffed as his eyes darkened slightly.

"It was for his own good, Lizzie." Darcy remarked, throwing away this pretense of using my last name when speaking with me. Both of us were past that point now.

"Just like I'm not good enough for you. Is that what you're trying to say?" I asked him incredulously as Darcy shook his head slowly. I think we were both confused.

"That wasn't the point, Lizzie." He answered as I laughed.

"Then what was?" I asked him carefully as he clenched his jaw audibly. I knew from the way his expression changed that he wasn't going to answer. I don't think he knew how.

"My resignation stands. Maybe you should take the road less traveled by in life, Will. Sometimes it benefits man to do just that." I stated stonily before turning and marching from the room—my body still heated from his touch, from the way his body had melded to mine. He was in my blood now. Dammit! Do you ever just have a moment where the world comes crashing down on you—breaks through this fantastic reverie you have going on and destroys it.


	35. Chapter 35

_**Mr. Darcy…**_

The world fell away from him as he watched her go, her hair tangled and her lips still rosy from their encounter. He wanted to hate himself and found he couldn't. She was right. He had wronged her. Had constantly belittled her and made her feel inferior. He wasn't in love with Stephanie. Never had been. She had just been a way for him to hide. But he was done with hiding. He wasn't sleeping at night, wasn't functioning because his brain was constantly consumed with a fiery, petite brunette that stood up to him like no other before her had. The road less traveled by…what did that mean? Taking chances? Skipping the worn path borne of security in order to seek something new, something outside a pre-ordained box? Because he was actually considering that now. He was actually starting to think that she was right. _But_ he had managed to run her off—to disillusion her. And now it was time to fix that.

"There you are." A female voice said cheerfully from the side of the room and Will sighed. He knew who it was. And he knew he needed to tell her. He needed to tell Stephanie that he was using her. He needed to take the first step to correcting his mistakes.

"Come back into the parlor." She insisted as he turned toward her sullenly.

"Not yet, Stephanie. I think it's time we talked." Will commented as Stephanie's eyes grew hooded. He knew she knew what he was going to say by the way she held up her hand and shook her head.

"I'm not discussing anything with you, Will. I saw '_her'_ leave this room. I've seen the way you look at that improper creature, and I'm willing to accept the fact that you are attracted to her. But I won't let you ruin yourself and embarrass me by leaving me for her. Do you hear me, Darcy?" She cried as Will stared at her sadly. He had made too many mistakes by letting pride blind him.

"I'm sorry Stephanie." He commented, knowing that the simple statement could be viewed as a 'break-up' comment. Her face distorted with fury.

"Damn you, Darcy! I won't leave. I won't let you do this. I will find a way to keep you." She retorted as he shrugged. He was done fighting.

"And while you stay here trying to find ways to seduce me, Stephanie, I'll be trying to find ways to seduce and keep Elizabeth Bennet." He replied before turning to leave the room, listening as Stephanie murmured that 'this wasn't over.' For him, it was just beginning.

* * *

**Author's Footnote: Just a note to point out that this is the part of the story (just like in the book) where Darcy has realized he does love Lizzie and starts to find ways to prove it to her following the huge blow out they have after he proposes the first time and while he doesn't propose here, it is still a declaration. And yes, he has already declared his attraction to her once when she was drunk, but ran away after that. I think it's time he quit running. What do you guys think (laugh). Hope you guys are enjoying!**

**Here's an overview of where we are at this point:**

**They are all** **gathered at Pemberley now. Lizzie is angry and disillusioned by Darcy and his actions. Jane and Charles are at a stand still. Darcy has broken his engagement with Stephanie. Stephanie has vowed to find a way to keep Darcy. Darcy has vowed to find a way to garner Lizzie's affection despite the way he has treated her until now. **

**Now we start to ask ourselves:**

**What will Catherine DeBourgh do to help Stephanie keep Darcy?**

**What will Georgie do to help her brother stave off Stephanie's attention?**

**Who are the twins, Lydia and Kitty, talking to online?**

**What will Darcy do to prove himself to Lizzie?**

**What will happen with Jane and Charles?**

**What will happen with Mary and Lord Devon?**

**Will Mary and Devon end up embroiled in the conflict that will surely arise between Stephanie (Lord Devon's sister) and Lizzie (Mary's sister)?**

**Please keep reading guys. We're at our turning point!**


End file.
